Badblood Tidings
by Barbinator
Summary: When a Predator crash lands on Earth in search of a Badblood, things aren't as they appear. This Yautja is on a mission, but everything gets turned upside down and worlds collide when he meets an Ooman female, Amy. Will this Predator return home with more than he bargained for? Disclaimer: I do not own anything pertaining to Predator.
1. Chapter 1

…

The Hunter immediately knew something was wrong. Seconds before every possible alarm blared for immediate attention, he could sense his ship was off. He was known throughout many clans for being one of the best in logistics of their ships. He checked everything religiously, but this time his arrogance had finally caught up with him. He had failed to run a thorough system check between his planet and the nearest game preserve planet, where he could have stopped and beaconed for help.

But no, he assumed everything was fine. He assumed this mission was black and white. Clear cut. An easy in and out. Usually that was how it was for the hunt and extermination of a Badblood. Usually clans rallied together to find the most suitable Hunter to purge the clan of a dishonorable limb.

He should have known better. His gut had told him this mission was different. Obviously someone had sabotaged his ship. There was no way the internal mechanisms could be so far off to immediately implode and fail upon entering Earth's atmosphere.

Most Hunters would allow their ships to land in a large body of water, detonating the self-destruct moments before impact to ensure the human race did not land their naïve hands on their technology.

He would not go down without a fight though. He knew the control monitor was useless at this point. With his Hunter grace and agility, he swung away from the control panel and raced to the core room. It was a mess, and he had only moments to make a decision. He quickly looked upon all the hissing, smoking mess that was his core ship engine.

He needed just enough control. Making a few quick adjustments, he then ran back to the control panel. He quickly scanned the area around his destination of impact looking for the least populated area. Finally, an area lit up on his screen. A region surrounded by mountains and much foliage, like a jungle. Sparsely populated. Easily surrounded by high population within a few hundred miles, but it would have to make due.

His braking system had been sabotaged the most, but a few adjustments with some hoses attached to his propulsion system would hopefully merit enough control in slowing down to minimize overall damage.

Luckily, his cloaking mechanism still worked, so he quickly switched that on and braced himself for impact.

…

Amy's night had been pretty good. She couldn't complain. It was her first night of a two week vacation. Not that she was beholden to an employer anyway being self-employed. Her professional life was amazing and fulfilling in every sense of the word, even if she was bored out of her mind. Being an appraiser of just about everything –homes, antiques, land, vehicles- had its perks though. It allowed her much free time, but she still had bills to pay.

For one, she loved her toys. And by toys, she meant her big super duty quad truck, her racing ATV, and all of her hunting equipment, specifically her bows. That stuff wasn't cheap. Then her beloved horses, her pets.

Amy realized the place she grew up in had a huge impact on her life and interests. The Appalachian Mountains provided a lot of room to roam and grow. She was a country girl through and through with just enough experience living in a big city for school to be well grounded and balanced in life.

Although she was an introvert, she easily accepted invites to hang out with some local friends. They all wanted to see her newest ATV. Yeah, it had been a pretty good night. But she was relieved to be headed home.

It was dark, nearly midnight, and it was a long way home and many miles on a pitch black back road barely wide enough for her large truck. Amy always loved the changing roads signaling her trip farther and farther from civilization. Two-lane highway to paved back road, and finally to gravel, dirt roads. Those were the kind she loved most. On the way to her family farm, she even had to drive across a low lying creek twice. Although, it was her family farm, her grandparents had left a few years back to live closer to town and their doctors as they were getting up there in years.

Her home life was quiet. Just the way she liked it. Quiet and peaceful. She was a few miles from home now, but she could already feel the tension from the conforming bonds of society easing from around her tight muscles and escaping out her partially rolled down window. Her place was the only one on this back road. It was a warm June night, just the way she liked it.

Not a care in the world.

Until a streaking ball of fucking fire roared right over the top of her truck to explode several yards to the left of the road.

She immediately slammed on the breaks, fishtailing slightly, and gravel flying everywhere. The force had rocked her truck enough that she was damn sure one of the wheels had been off the ground, and that was saying something about her big truck already weighed down by a mean metal machine, aka, her ATV.

For a moment, she just sat in her truck, staring straight ahead. A part of herself told her to just go on home and ignore this incident. Her truck wasn't damaged. She was fine. Just go home.

Her hands clenched tightly on the steering wheel, feeling the warm leather beneath her flesh. Focus. Breath. It was probably just a meteor. Of course she was pretty sure meteors didn't swerve up to avoid moving vehicles.

She was losing her mind!

With a yell and a bang of her fists, she yanked open her truck door and hopped down.

She finally looked at the wreckage. Although it was pitch black outside, she could see clearly. Several trees had been downed, incinerated, combusted. They were currently smoldering. One was still very much flaming high. In the back of her mind, she hoped the fire didn't spread.

There was fire. Trees were destroyed. There was obviously a path of grooved deep into the dirt leading to a huge pile of dark soil. But there was nothing there. It was as if whatever had landed, had just poof! Disappeared.

Taking a hesitant step forward, Amy looked closer. Something was off.

Sure enough, although she couldn't _see_ whatever had crashed, she could just barely make out a shape. No wonder there were so many trees down. Whatever _it_ was, it was huge. No way was that a meteor. A meteor that size would have destroyed this entire region.

Looking down at her outfit, she grumbled to herself. Just great, of all times to wear something girly, it had to be now. Sighing loudly, she looked from side to side along the road, as if her agitation would magically reveal some lost soul along this road. Yeah right.

Ballerina shoes and a knee length summer dress were not ideal to be traipsing along in severely churned up dirt, but she had no way of knowing if this _thing_ was a covert operation jet running a training op. There could be someone in there needing help.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

trees had been downed, incinerated, combusted. They were currently smoldering. One was still very much flaming high. In the back of her mind, she hoped the fire didn't spread.

It was surreal.

There was fire. Trees were destroyed. There was obviously a path of grooved deep into the dirt leading to a huge pile of dark soil. But there was nothing there. It was as if whatever had landed, had just poof!

However, not even two steps closer to the edge of the road, she heard a click and a hiss cutting through the silence of the night. And just for a second, something flickered over the near invisible "jet", revealing the beast of a machine in all its glory. Yeah, that was like nothing she had ever seen before. Nothing like a jet.

Her mind kept screaming _alien_ , but that was crazy!

And then she saw _him_.

All seven foot, hulking muscle of something _not_ human. Not human.

He stumbled backwards away from his ship. He appeared disoriented, but that didn't seem to last long.

Amy was sure that she was just staring in shock, mouth gaping wide open. Some self-preservation mode finally clicked on, and Amy made a decent attempt at stealth by creeping her flat shoes slowly behind her.

Luck was not part of her night apparently. No sooner did her foot hit a loose piece of gravel, making a slightly audible crunch sound –although how the hell he heard it over the hissing sounds of his ship and the crackling flames on the trees, she had no clue- than his head whipped to the right, instantly locking onto her form. His dreadlock-like hair whipped behind him and gracefully settled around his shoulders and along the bulking mass of his biceps.

Amy put her hands up in a placating manner in front of her chest as he crouched down into a defensive crouch. Or maybe it was offensive, if the weapon in his hand was anything to go by.

"Easy, big guy." She calmly breathed. It was so low, yet he heard her. He cocked his head to one side, but his weapon stayed locked on her.

She dimly thought of the shotgun in the back seat.

The big guy began to make rather odd clicking and growling sounds. Inhuman sounds. She couldn't tell exactly where his focus was with the metal mask he was wearing, but Amy was pretty sure he was staring intently at her just as she was staring intently back at him.

When he began to relax, Amy eased her other foot back, but once he heard the crunch of gravel, he made a sharp clacking sound and a very loud growl. Like the low roar of a lion. Before his roar had even panned out, she spun around, slipping and sliding in her haste on the gravel, and headed straight for the safety of the open truck.

Amy heard a low whoosh, and thinking that he was after her, she spun to the left, and barely caught herself on the edge of the open door, making a loud protesting squeak as it bore the brunt of her sudden weight. It was hard not to notice the loud crunching sound of metal.

Spinning again to face him, Amy looked to her left. He had shot a clawed spear weapon at her! It was embedded deep in the back door of the truck, the metal crunched up like a ball of foil. What the fuck! Her truck!

And before she could even get over the outrage for that, he ripped the claw back into his hands from some suspension rope, taking the truck door with it.

Amy was pissed. Seething. The truck payment and insurance for it combined were not cheap! And she was pretty sure her insurance didn't cover alien attacks. Brooke, the insurance agent, was a total scrooge who barely allowed her busted headlight from an errant deer to be covered. This would not be!

Before her brain caught up to her mouth, she shouted, "Hey you dumb brute! That was my truck you just damaged!" Amy shouted a few more obscenities his way, waving her finger at him, and even taking a few steps in his direction without realizing it. Without thinking.

He did put his weapon away after easily ripping the undamaged spear free from the crumpled metal that was once the door of her truck. But he just stood there staring at her, with his head cocked to the side, as if he were trying to figure her out. Or plan his next method of attack. Amy wasn't sure. Maybe he wasn't sure either.

Amy was at an impasse. She didn't want to risk an attack by attempting to flee. He didn't seem to like it when she moved. But she couldn't just stand there and do nothing.

"Look, you, whoever you are, I don't want any trouble. I just want to go home. No harm, no foul, right?" Amy tried to reason with him.

He seemed relaxed. Not quite as tense. Maybe that was a good thing. He seemed to make a decision though and began making quick strides in her direction. He was headed her way with deadly intent.

Oh shit.


	2. Chapter 2

.2.

Shit was right. His long strides were making those yards look like mere feet.

Amy wasted no time and quickly propelled into the leather interior of the truck and slammed the door shut. Luckily, she hadn't turned the engine off, so she went to put the truck in gear when suddenly something slammed on top of her truck, leaving a caved in dent that very nearly touched her shoulder.

Before there was any time to react to more damage to her truck, the passenger side door was yanked plum off its hinges. Eyes bulging in horror, Amy took in the massive creature standing outside with her door in his arm like a shield.

Tossing it behind him like a Frisbee, he roared at her inside the truck.

"Oh hell no!" Amy exclaimed as she scrambled back out her door. By the time she righted herself and looked across the seats, he was gone. With all the horror movies she had ever seen in her lifetime, Amy quickly dropped down to look under the truck. There was no way in hell she was going to let some alien creature yank her by her ankles.

Seeing nothing, she quickly jumped back up looking every which way, back and forth, back and forth, trying to locate him.

Where the hell did he go? He had just vanished!

She crept to the bed of her truck, peered inside, then slowly walked around to the side of the truck he had last been. Nothing. Rushing to the door less side of her truck, she looked through then peered into the darkness along the side of the road. Again, nothing. Keeping her eyes straining out into the darkness, she crept in front of her truck, keeping her back to the headlights.

She hit the open door of her truck, startling herself briefly before shaking it off. When she was back to her starting point, the driver's side, she released a pent up breath.

Maybe he had just left.

At least, that's what she thought until she took another step backwards and bumped against a hard, solid mass of alien steel.

With a loud gasp, Amy tensed up ready to sprint away when clawed hands roughly grasped her upper arms. The creature behind her began to lightly growl in warning. She dared not move. Even when he released her left arm, and she heard another strange click and hissing sound like escaping air, she didn't move.

In her peripheral vision, she saw his left arm holding his mask. Then she felt an odd sensation along the back of her head, like fingers massaging through her hair. But his hands were not in her hair.

Was he smelling her? Sniffing her out? Licking her?

Just when Amy couldn't take it anymore and thought to yank away, he squeezed her right arm in warning, then put his mask back on with another hiss and click.

Not knowing what was going on, what was going to happen, that really tightened Amy's chest with fear. She hated being afraid. It was a useless, no good feeling. But Amy had a temper when she was mad, and she got mad when she was scared. It really made no sense to her, but it was just the way she was wired. Besides, who wouldn't be downright chilled to the bone over some inhuman creature with claws?

In hindsight, she probably didn't proceed with the smartest course of action. She had no way of knowing he was only curious, and after sating his curiosity, would be on his merry little way. But no, she had to go and make herself prey.

Oh yeah.

Amy stomped as hard as she could on his foot, darted forward, and using her momentum, managed a perfect roundhouse kick right to his jaw. She was pretty sure it hurt her more than it hurt him. However, it did manage to knock him into the back of her truck, more out of surprise than anything else.

With an aggravated huffing sound, which was quite a curious sound to her, he turned around holding her shotgun in his large hand. He somehow made her prized gun look like a child's toy. Oddly enough, he didn't seem too terribly _mad_ about her knocking him in the head.

That was what she thought, until she saw him literally bend her gun like a damn pretzel as if it were dough! Holy hell.

This guy was wearing armor, for Christ's sake. Her kick had not affected him. He had walked away from smoldering wreckage like it was a carnival ride. Amy realized she was in way over her head. She was in a fucking tsunami.

It was time to escape. Run like hell.

She made a break for it back around the front of her truck. Even if she had to run around her damn truck like a merry go round playing Marco Polo, she would keep on running. Anything to avoid Godzilla's hybrid love child.

By the time she reached the other side, she heard a small ping sound bouncing off her truck. Was he throwing his spear at her again? No, that would have been a much bigger sound. One thing was sure, he was throwing something at her. Something meant to maim or kill, she was sure. Dammit, what had she done to get herself in this mess? Now she was near her tail gate, but she couldn't hear _anything_ from him.

How the hell did he manage to not make a single sound? Why did something so massive have to be so silent? Silent but deadly. Ha, she had to stop being snarky in her thoughts. She didn't want to lose it and start laughing in the face of adversity just like the Joker.

Amy was breathing heavily from stress more than exertion. She couldn't bring herself to look under the truck, and she wasn't going to hang around waiting for him to reappear out of the darkness like the Grim Reaper to slit her throat wide open.

She didn't dare attempt her truck. There was only one other means for escape. Her one chance.

Amy quickly grasped her tailgate and let it drop with a loud thud that echoed through the still air. She hoisted herself up with ease from past experience, but when she went to toss out the ramps, he suddenly appeared out of nowhere right by the tailgate. Stupid! She had turned her back to most vulnerable side of the truck!

He grabbed her ankle and yanked. She landed with a harrumph and grabbed onto the straps, unclipping them as he pulled. Luckily she released the clips, but now she was being pulled to the beast! Before he could toss her out of the truck, she grabbed hold of a ramp, momentarily struggling with the weight, and pulled herself up into a sitting position as she swung with all her might.

Smack! Right on top of the head!

He let her go and howled. Oh boy, now he was pissed.

Without further delay, Amy scrambled on top of her four-wheeler, thanking her lucky stars she left the keys in the ignition, and started her baby up. With a roar that always purred for her, it sounded just as beautiful as ever.

Laughing in the face of her adversity –oh god, she really was as deranged as the Joker- she revved the engine, and yelled to the big guy, "Better move out of the way because you're about to be toasted!"

Releasing the clutch, Amy let it loose. She had no time to think about the rough landing. She knew it could handle the impact.

The creature dodged out of the way, but she felt a slight impact. She wasn't sure how hard he was hit, or if it was just a graze. Either way, she was out of there. He may be bigger. He may be stronger. He may have an indefinite supply of weaponry. But she was a country girl in the country. She was home, and she knew this place inside and out, even in the dark. She headed on the road going south, opposite the direction of her home.

Even though she knew it was a bad idea, she couldn't help but look behind her. Shit! He was literally right on her ass. He was only about ten feet behind her, running easily 30 miles per hour. Okay, apparently he was one hell of a runner as well!

She hit the throttle full force and sighed in relief as she began to lose him. Since she knew where she was, she turned off her headlights before she slowed down and angled left. Feeling the slight lift in her stomach to let her know she managed the small plummet into the woods, she focused solely on the trail. She knew this trail. Due to the darkness, she had to navigate a bit slower than normal, but she still knew it.

There was a cabin a few miles away from the road, surrounded by a dense amount of trees that had never been thinned out. Other than the few trees cut down by her father nearly fifteen years ago, no trees had been touched out this way. It made navigating a bit treacherous. Every root in the trail jolted her sharply in the seat. A couple of times, one of her front fenders would bump into a small tree, causing her to stop and reverse and maneuver again.

It was slow and steady progress, but she just knew turning her headlights on would be the wrong move.

She just had to make it to the cabin. There were more weapons. There was food. Everything she needed, and it was completely hidden. Completely self-sufficient with a generator and well water. Without her headlights on, that beast wouldn't be able to track her. Although the engine made sounds, surely unless he knew where he was going, being able to follow her on sound alone would be impossible, right?

Within moments, the dark outline of her cabin came into view. The relief ebbing throughout her body was amazing, but she wasn't going to relax just yet. Parking the four-wheeler at the corner of the cabin, Amy jumped off, grabbed her olive green tarp, and threw it over her only means of escape. She ran around the back of the cabin, turned the generator on, and finally opened the back door that led onto a small deck.

Amy never locked the cabin. There was no point. She honestly couldn't even recall where the locks were for the knobs. It never seemed to matter, locking it up, but she very quickly went to work on locking up all the doors and windows. Internally, Amy knew it wouldn't do a world of difference if he somehow managed to find her. She reflected on her poor, destroyed truck, and thought to herself, no it definitely wouldn't stop him.

Shaking off her frustration over the truck, Amy raced to the kitchen, opened cabinets, and grabbed hold of her night binoculars. They weren't the greatest on the market, but it allowed her to see movement around the immediate vicinity of the cabin. Better than nothing.

She sat underneath one of the windows in the living room, peering up and out into the night with her binoculars every few minutes. Every ten minutes she would race to the back and peer out into the night again.

How she wished her dad had added side windows!

For what felt like ages, Amy finally began to calm down. Her heartbeat slowed and she was able to feel safe. After all, he was alien, he didn't know this area. Amy was able to convince herself that there was no way in the world she had been followed. No way could she be found. She would just stay out here in the cabin for a few days, then proceed back to town in broad daylight.

The cabin was cozy enough. Simple but cozy. The living room was out front in an L shape, which was open wide to the kitchen in the back that led off to the deck. Off to the side of the kitchen was the only bedroom and bathroom. There was only a shower stall, but she rarely used the bath anyway.

Peering down at herself, Amy realized she was filthy. Mulling over her options silently, Amy went back to the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight. She wasn't ready to turn the lights on or get out the candles, but she was ready to take a shower. She didn't mind the darkness.

If Amy had stayed vigilant for just a few more minutes, she would have seen movement north of the cabin.

 **...**

 **Author's Note: Thank you all to everyone who has so far favorited/followed my story thus far. I have a pretty good idea how I want the story laid out, with a few dry spots here and there. I'm doing my best to quickly get it out and edited. I have 3 little ones who are BIG distractions, so if there are mistakes, I apologize. Holes in my story, I apologize. I welcome anyone who wants to point them out so I can make changes. :) Disclaimer: There WILL eventually be steamy sex scenes, so beware if that isn't your regular cup of tea.**


	3. Chapter 3

.3.

Kh'laz was exhilarated. The little female had turned their encounter into a hunt. For an ooman, she wasn't worthy enough to be considered prey for Kh'laz to take time to seek a trophy, but she had surprised him a few times. He had to admit that he was very curious. This female was resourceful.

He was wise enough to admit to himself that this was more of a game of curiosity than anything else. He didn't want to kill the female. Other than that one poor lapse of judgement due to his initial disorientation, no action he took was meant to kill. Kh'laz reflected back to the moments immediately following his impact.

The inside of the ship was a haze of smoke and he had stumbled out. Due to the ship's damage, it hadn't landed where he needed it to, but a little too close to populations. He had been on edge. So, when he made out noises indicative of footsteps, he had reacted on instinct. The female had a huge machine behind her, one that he was unsure of its capabilities. He had treated it as a weapon. When the female ran to the possible weapon, Kh'laz had again, merely reacted out of instinct.

His retractable spear had been no match for the female's machine. That's when he began to doubt it was a weapon. Seeing all the seats inside, Kh'laz deduced it must be some mode of transportation. But then the female had caught his attention with her anger. He relaxed his posture to lull her into a false sense of security. He needed to incapacitate this ooman long enough for him to either fix his ship, or call for back-up. The mission always came first, and yet he was already at a disadvantage.

That's what Kh'laz had intended, that was until the female had taken a step toward him, and just at that precise moment, the breeze had blown her scent his way.

Kh'laz was momentarily stunned.

This female's smell had very nearly the same impact on him as a female Yautja in heat. The smell was inherently different in every way, but that core, gut reaction was nearly identical. Kh'laz decided he _had_ to get close enough to this female and verify that he was, in fact, smelling her and not some other foreign source.

Kh'laz did not understand her language. He had very little knowledge of this planet's speech patterns, and she had not spoken enough for his mask translator to begin helping him grasp a basic understanding.

However, once he made his way in her direction, it frightened her to the point she was fleeing. Unsure of the machine's full capabilities to outmaneuver him, Kh'laz had panicked and raced to jump on top of the machine. After ripping off another flimsy metal piece, Kh'laz had roared at her. He needed her to stay put. Yet his warning had not been heeded. At every turn, she attempted to escape.

He was getting frustrated, yet he had to take a step back in order to not lose control. There would be no honor in destroying this female.

Kh'laz was a master at blending into the background and darkness of most any environments. He took this time to study the female. To lay out a plan of his own. He admitted to himself that she was clever, keeping her back to the transport at all times. But he was quicker. He was a master at the predator vs. prey game.

It was no challenge at all to be there waiting for her after she made it around the transport. After she bumped into his chest plate, Kh'laz quickly restrained the female. It amazed him how much smaller the females of this planet were. He had to consciously hold back his strength in order not to hurt her.

Since his mask helped a great deal in filtering the air on this planet, he needed to remove his mask to better understand her _n'dui'se_.

He almost regretted removing his mask the moment his plugs released. Before, her scent had been meager, but a flicker of its current potency. He sucked in a sharp breath, then slowly leaned down to her hair. It was maddening. He prided himself on his self-control, yet he was quickly losing it.

He had no choice but to put his mask back on. It was too soon. He was deeply conflicted.

Mission.

Female.

While distracted, the female managed to knock him a rather impressive kick to his head. He went with the motion, more surprised at her action than any physical discomfort. That was when he noticed the weapon in the back of the machine.

After a fleeting moment of disappointment, he grabbed the weapon to show her that her ooman weapons were no match for his kind. Hopefully this demonstration would show her to think twice before relying on weapons. Hadn't he shown her thus far that he was more than capable of restraint? If he had really wanted to, she would already be dead.

Yet, she ran _again_.

Usually, Kh'laz enjoyed a good chase. But he was struggling to keep this mission at the forefront of his mind. He knew this mission was more dangerous than initially thought. This Badblood had help from the clan. He needed to contain this situation in order to return to his ship and contact Sci'zi, another sain'ja, one of his hunt brothers who sometimes joined him as his co-pilot on missions. Sci'zi hadn't for many years, but Kh'laz knew his hunt brother was more trustworthy and reliable than many others. He needed someone he could trust to get to the bottom of the poisoned well of this mission.

He attempted to capture her with one of his smaller nets, but he missed.

Kh'laz could be patient. He had superb control. He would prevail over the female. She wasn't as quick. There was no way she could outrun him.

Minutes later, Kh'laz had been, once again, surprised by the female. He had naively dismissed what was being carried by the transport machine. He had not realized it was a miniature form of transport. Once he realized, he had reappeared and quickly attempted to contain the female.

By holding back his immense strength so as not to harm the female unduly, he was constantly being caught unawares. The female had knocked him on the head with a rather large piece of metal he had assumed she would be unable to use as a weapon. This female could move quickly when need be, as she efficiently demonstrated after her attack.

The new, smaller machine she was on was more powerful than he had anticipated. It hit him hard enough to stop him in order that he could better evaluate for damages to his armor. Seeing nothing of concern, Kh'laz had pursued the female intensely. He was gaining on her retreating back when she suddenly whipped her head around and noticed his advance. The small machine sped up too fast for Kh'laz to keep up, so he slowed down and starting switching through screen functions on his mask. His mask allowed him to see great distances, especially with heat signatures. That machine was powerful but very hot.

It wasn't difficult at all to see where the female turned off, and he quickly cached the location. He watched her progress for a little while, then retreated to work on his ship and make contact with Sci'zi. He was more than confident of his ability to track her. He would be fair and give her time to work out a plan of defense. He was actually looking forward to it.

After all, her scent was ingrained into his memory. There was no escaping the lure of a female _n'dui'se._

 **Author's Note: I realize this chapter is a good 800 words less than the previous ones, and I apologize. Also, I would like to point out that for whatever reason, I CANNOT see or view the reviews on this website. I AM however, reading them via my email, but I cannot reply to them otherwise. So thank you to everyone who is thus far enjoying my story. I realize that I've been quite lucky that in the last 3 days, I have managed one chapter a day, but please do not expect that to be consistent. I will begin to slow down. Once I slow down, I do welcome any and all suggestions and wish-for scenarios. :)**

 **vampirelover555, your review made my day. Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

.4.

Amy was feeling much better after her shower. It hadn't been as piping hot as she liked it, but the generator hadn't had enough time to warm the water heater. Lukewarm was good enough though. At least she was clean.

Exiting the bathroom, Amy entered the bedroom in search of clothes. Sighing in disgust, she quickly realized her supply was all but extinguished. And hunting gear was not what she required at the moment. Finally she found a gray tank top and matching gray sweatpants.

Then she went in search of coffee. Coffee sounded divine.

After starting the brew of potentially stale coffee, Amy began wandering around the cabin. It was sparsely furnished with one futon couch, one end table, one lamp, and one kitchen table with two wooden chairs. There was only one deer head up on the living room wall which basically consisted of the only décor in the entire cabin.

Bare necessities. Amy was mentally ticking off a list of items she needed to obtain for the cabin. It could use a little homey quality. A few pictures, some curtains, and maybe a TV for entertainment. She was only thinking of these things at the prospect of a few days in a suddenly very boring cabin.

Out of boredom, Amy grabbed her binoculars and peeked out the back window. There was a grazing doe in plain sight, but that was the only movement in the night. Amy was sure it was after three in the morning, but she didn't feel tired in the slightest. She doubted there would be any sleep for quite some time.

Amy was peering so intently at the deer that it took her a few seconds to notice the absence of sound. No longer could she hear the bubbling sounds of her coffee pot brewing, or even the constant droning hum of the generator. Sure enough, when she stepped over to the back door to switch on the light, nothing happened.

The generator was dead.

She had checked the fuel for it. It had been near full capacity.

When the deer jerked its head up in alarm and took off running, so did Amy. She ran to the bedroom, grabbed her pistol, and yanked the string attached to the ladder leading to the attic. After scrambling up the ladder, Amy pulled the ladder back up, and focused solely on making no noise. She found a low lying corner, crouched with her knees up and her gun ready. Then she just sat there. And sat for what felt like ever, but she knew realistically had only been minutes.

Dammit! She thought for sure she had been safe. It had been a couple of _hours_ since her encounter, and nothing had happened. She had waited. She had prepared. How had he found her _hours_ after her escape? She couldn't hear anything, but she knew already that meant diddley-squat with this thing.

She sat there long enough for the adrenaline rush to leave her system, leaving her a shaking mess. If this scary son of a bitch managed to be the death of her, Amy sadly realized there really wouldn't be a whole lot of people to mourn her. It would probably take a few weeks before anyone even took notice of her absence. Immediately following that line of thinking, Amy worried for her horses. Who would care for them? They would suffer without her.

Amy shook her head sharply to rid herself of these thoughts. No! She wouldn't stand for it! As long as she still had breath in her body, she would fight with every last molecule of her being for her right to live.

When a small rodent crawled over the top of Amy's bare foot, it took every ounce of willpower not to react at all. Not a whimper. Not a twitch.

But when there was a sudden loud thump on the roof that shook the entire cabin, Amy couldn't help the scream that made its way out of her mouth. Before she even had time to react or think about escaping, that beast decided that damaging her truck wasn't enough. He had to go and rip a freaking hole in her roof! He peeled a section of her roof back as if it were nothing more than a can of sardines.

When he landed inside, there was another rumble throughout the entire cabin. It didn't take him long to settle his eerie mask in her direction, but she was already one step ahead rolling over toward the ladder. On her completion of the roll, Amy whipped her leg down hard and went falling down into the bedroom below when the door sprung open.

The impact hurt. It jarred her bones more than she was willing to contemplate before picking herself up by sheer force of will. Amazed, she looked down at the gun still clutched in her hand. Thank goodness! Before she could make it to the front door however, the big guy dropped down through the living room ceiling to land dead center between her and the doorway, not caring at all as attic dust and dry wall bits rained down around him.

He just stood there and stared at her. She was beginning to get the impression that he was merely playing with her. Surely not…

The audacity of the thought of this being just a game to this creature, Amy pointed her gun straight at him. "Stay back! Leave me the hell alone! I was going to _help you_ and this is how you repay me? By hunting me down like nothing more than an animal?" He only cocked his head at her again, as he had done already on multiple occasions, but Amy didn't lower her weapon at the non-threatening gesture. She dimly heard some beeping sounds emitting from his mask, and she could tell that he was intently focused on them, whatever it was.

Suddenly, the creature pointed a finger at Amy and spoke in a deep, alien voice that wasn't as smooth as her own, "No hurt female."

Amy was temporarily speechless, but quickly voiced her thoughts, "You can speak my language?"

The alien creature tilted his head again as if contemplating her question and spoke haltingly, as if he was unsure exactly what to say. "Translator still learning. Speak some. Understand little."

Amy let out a derisive snort, "Okay, tough guy, can you understand this? Can you understand me when I tell you to go away? Leave me alone!" To help him understand, she pointed her finger vehemently toward the door.

"No." Was his only response, and he began advancing on her. His massive form made her already tiny cabin feel claustrophobic.

Amy didn't want to have to shoot if it wasn't necessary, but he would not back off! "Stop! I don't want to shoot, but if you leave me no choice, I will not hesitate!"

He growled at her, "No weapon." Then swiped his massive arm at her gun like a fly swatter, sending it careening against the far wall.

Rather than submit, Amy catapulted her body toward the gun, landing on her shoulder. As she picked up her little gun, he once again grabbed her ankle and began dragging her along the floor. Flipping over to land on her back, Amy brought her knees to her chest and kicked him hard. He stopped and dropped her ankle.

Laying against the cold floor, Amy pointed her gun up at the creature, and calmly warned, "Touch me again, and I will shoot." Rather than take her warning seriously, he made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle and stepped his massive feet on either side of her legs to stare down at her. Then he reached down. And Amy pulled the trigger.

Click.

Click click click.

Fuck, Amy thought. They were both immobile, staring at one another as they both realized that her gun was empty. Amy had forgot to reload it.

 **Author's Note: Wow! I managed two chapters in ONE day. I should get a medal or something. :P When I'm on a roll, I'm rolling fast! Hoping my little one continues to give me these opportunities to keep at the keyboard! Also, I apologize for another short chapter. I suppose if I had more guaranteed time, I could add more details. Most of the time I feel details are unnecessary...but they do help. If you want more details, please let me know in the reviews, and I can work with it.**


	5. Chapter 5

Kh'laz was staring down at the female. He waited for the instinctual reaction to retaliate, and was amazed at his complete lack of a response after she attempted to shoot him. Not that her tiny weapon would have penetrated his armor anyway. He could only stare at the female. His mask was set on a realistic function, rather than his usual heat signature system. He was amazed at how _colorful_ this female was. Dark, blood red hair, one green colored eye, and one blue eye. Most of her exposed flesh was flushed pink. It was the first time he had used this particular setting since their encounter.

He was simply astounded.

It was true that he had little experience with the dominant species of this planet, and he had never actively hunted them. He always chose game-preserve planets with far fiercer beasts than the _ooman._ Many that were many times larger than a Yautja, like the _kiande amedha_ otherwise known as the hard meats. Although, some Warrior oomans, males in particular, could be worthy of the hunt, _kv'var,_ he could never bring himself to hunt them. Many of his race had chosen to avoid this planet due to the recent advances in technology.

Kh'laz hunted beasts. Animals. Although the human race appeared animalistic at times in their continual need to war with one another, Kh'laz found no honor in hunting other sentient beings. He could not bring himself to think of this female as nothing more than an animal. No more than himself. Luckily, many of the Elders were beginning to think the same way.

The Elders were attempting to reign in on the Blooded and Young Blood Yautja who over generations, had made a reputation as killers throughout the universe.

As Kh'laz had always believed, there was no honor in fighting the weaker or the defenseless. Looking down at the female's weapon, Kh'laz knew even this was no defense. Grasping the gun in her hand, he deftly removed it, and waited for her to look at the gun in his hands before he crumpled the metal in a strong grip with ease. "No weapon. No need. Will not hurt," he growled at her again. He was beginning to grasp the language more and more, but it was still difficult to relay what he needed.

He had made contact with Sci'zi, who had agreed to look into the background of the Badblood he was after, and to send all known files on languages to his ship's database, which would then send frequencies to his mask based on the language the female uttered. His mask was able to process auditory information which in turn, transmitted to him the necessary language through a chip embedded in his skull. Due to the damage of his ship, the frequency ratio was not at full power, therefore, the learning mechanism was slower than he would have otherwise liked.

Kh'laz realized he was down on his knees before the female, his knees replaced where his feet had been, effectively straddling her legs. The female had her hands on either side of her head, palms up, in a submissive manner, all the while keeping her eyes closed.

He immediately wished her eyes would open. He had never known of an ooman with such eyes. He would have to ask an Elder about the phenomenon.

He was in a predicament. He wanted to actively pursue this female, allow her to know and understand his intentions, but he had to find the Badblood before the Badblood's ship detected his location. Kh'laz was the Hunter, not the Hunted. He didn't want to keep the female with him while on his mission, and he would be unable to leave her in his ship.

Yet, the thought of walking away from her, and being unable to find her again did strange things to his chest. An odd, foreign sense of tightening.

He huffed out in exasperation, only to find her unique eyes staring up at him again. He stared in awe as his own hand reached out to feel the texture of her face. She didn't move a muscle as the side of his finger ran down her cheek. Soft. Warm.

He began to purr, the sounds vibrating out of his chest.

…

Amy stared up at the creature in shock. What were those sounds he was making? Sounds of contentment almost. Those sounds were doing things to her. She was dizzy and lightheaded, yet at the same time, intensely aware of his fingers on her face and the solidity of his legs brushing alongside her sweatpants.

It was as if he were purring, and his purrs strangely felt _good_.

What the hell was she thinking? She wouldn't exactly call this entire situation anything along the lines of safe, yet that was exactly what she was feeling. Safe. As much as she didn't want to admit it, although he had shown her in every way with her truck, her guns, her cabin, how very strong he was, he had not once hurt her. She wasn't bleeding. The only bruises and aches she felt were of her own doing.

But still, she had no idea what this creature wanted with her. She had no idea what he planned to do with her. She wasn't going to go along for the ride simply because he hadn't _yet_ hurt her.

Amy was only twenty four. She had her whole life ahead of her to settle down and have kids. She still had those wants and desires. And being around this creature starkly reminded her of her own vulnerability to death. She didn't like it. Not at all.

She had to get away, once and for all.

His purring had stopped, and he splayed his entire massive hand out on the center of her chest, and rasped, "Pretty." Boy, his hand was hot, full of burning heat, Amy thought. She tried not to think on the fact he was _complimenting_ her. All of his actions in the last few minutes almost had Amy thinking that he liked her.

That was insane, though.

Before she could think further on it, the creature's head jerked up to stare with deadly concentration toward the back door. "Stay," he barked at her before, in the blink of an eye, he had bolted like a 400 meter dash sprinter.

The sound of a loud, thunderous boom and shattering glass confirmed in Amy's mind that he had charged through the door. The damages kept mounting, but at least it was an opportune time for her to make her escape. This time she wouldn't go anywhere secluded. The four-wheeler had enough gas to make it to town. Going straight to the police department sounded like a plan to her.

Amy didn't once stop to contemplate _what_ exactly the beast was charging as she made her way out the front door. She didn't, but she really should have.

Barefoot, Amy ran off the front porch and made a straight beeline for her four-wheeler. She yanked the tarp off, and jumped in the seat. But when she went to start it, nothing happened. She tried again a few more times, and then sat slumped and dumbfounded in her seat.

She looked around, only to notice her battery laid out neatly on the edge of her porch, in plain sight. That freakin' beast had removed her battery!

Suddenly, Amy heard roars and clashing that sounded ominously similar to two vehicles smashing into one another. There were two distinct sounding roars, one she recognized, and the other she did not recognize.

Holy fuck, were there _two_ of them out there?

That thought alone spurred Amy into action as she sprinted to the shed beside the cabin and grabbed an old battery that she prayed still had enough juice to get her the hell out of Dodge. If she recalled correctly, she had replaced the battery as preventative maintenance rather than an actual need.

In record time, the battery was replaced. Thank God the males in her family had taught the ways of the mechanic. Backyard Mechanic all the way, baby!

Just as Amy was sitting down on the four-wheeler, she heard the fighting get closer as they made their way into her cabin. The sounds of destruction echoing out the front door sounded ruthless. She almost felt bad for the creature who had stalked her. Almost.

Now for the moment of truth. Would the battery work? Amy started it, and although it took a few turns for the power to kick in, it revved up! Instant relief.

As she tore through the brush once again, Amy heard a familiar roar crack through the silence like an anvil. No way, why was she feeling guilty? She had seen what little he was capable of, so he had to be more than capable of holding his own ground.

This time, she had her headlights on, and was making better time. Regrettably, although Amy could literally taste her freedom, she didn't even make it to the road.

Out of nowhere, a massive, goliath being shot out of the darkness, and collided with her four-wheeler. Luckily, the four-wheeler took the brunt of the impact, but she still felt enough. Enough to know that she didn't stand a chance. Enough to know how easily she could be killed. Enough to know that she was royally fucked.

Her four-wheeler flipped completely up off the ground. Although she kept flying between the trees, her four-wheeler was crumpled against the trees directly along the trail. Her truck, her cabin, and now her four-wheeler all in one night. And apparently, now her body was next on the to-destroy-list.

Everything hurt. She wasn't sure if she eventually hit a tree or not. Maybe she hit one. Maybe she didn't. She just knew that everything hurt. It even took her a moment to understand she had landed.

It took her another moment to catch her breath and fight through the disorientation that was fogging her mind, but when she was finally able to prop her upper body up on her elbows, she looked up into the eyes of merciless Death.

There was another massive alien brute standing not even ten feet in front of her. Its face was mask-less, which was frightening enough in itself. It had fucking claws sticking out of its face! It had glowing green goo on nearly every inch of its skin, which she assumed had to be blood. The fact that he was here in lieu of the other, gentler one, did not bode well for Amy.

Although it was dark, Amy looked directly into the red laser of its gun.

Which was pointed directly at her heart.

Amy thought dispassionately to herself, so this was how she was to die.

Against this one, she had no more moves, no cards or tricks to pull out of her sleeve. This one left her no easy out. No maneuverability. She had to face the facts that there was no clever way out of this one.

Amy didn't want its maddened, crazy, soulless eyes to be the last sight before her death, so she closed her eyes and waited. Not even seconds later, Amy cried out in pain as the shot went straight through her right shoulder. From her current position on her back, she could see that the other one had come to her rescue by tackling the 'evil' alien into the trees just as he had pulled the trigger.

His shot had missed its target.

She never thought she would ever be grateful to him, but damn, she was happy he wasn't dead. With her arm burning worse than she had ever experienced before, Amy struggled to sit up and watch the battle. Observing them, she was awestruck at the level of strength being confirmed with every punch, kick, and block. When they punched and missed, trees were splintered. No need for machinery, these two aliens were effectively creating a glade devoid of trees faster than she had ever seen.

After the 'good' alien had struck a particularly devastating blow to the 'evil' alien's chest, throwing him into a large tree that splintered on contact, the 'good' one spun around to face her. He also had green goo on several places on his body, and his armor was missing pieces and damaged in other places. He growled loudly at her with one distinctive command.

"Run."

She didn't need to be told twice.

Amy nodded his way in thanks, and used the trees to help push herself forward. It was too dark to gauge the extent of her wound. She could feel the warm blood running down the inside of her arm on occasion, and her shirt felt sticky and wet. Right now, she couldn't think about it. She had to get to the cabin.

It felt like she was running on adrenaline fumes at this point. It had been a long night, or it could also be the fact that she had been shot by a laser gun in the shoulder. A combination of both.

She had no idea how long it took her to jog to the cabin, but before she knew it, she was there. And she was rooted to the spot in shock.

The cabin was demolished. The entire kitchen was gone, there was a hardly a roof left at all. No wall was standing straight up anymore, instead leaning precariously. Oh my god, Amy thought to herself.

Either way, standing there feeling sorry for herself was accomplishing nothing. It wasn't until now that Amy understood what her resolve had been the moment she had been told to run. She supposed if there had been time to actually think about it, there would have been enough time to talk herself out of it.

Full of resolve and a dollop of stupidity, Amy crawled through one of the many holes in the walls and ran over to what used to be a corner in the living room. The leftover walls didn't look all that stable, and Amy didn't want to be under them when any finally collapsed. There was a loose board where she stored her big guns. Her Daddy's prized automatic rifle.

This time, Amy made sure to grab some ammo and load the gun.

Before leaving, Amy took a pensive look at the destroyed cabin and the lingering fire in the kitchen. It wasn't much of a fire. Looked like most of it had already burned down. However, it allowed Amy to take a good hard look at her wound.

It was still bleeding. Not profusely, but still just enough to concern Amy. With the kitchen totally gone, Amy had nothing to bind her wound.

Her trip back into the woods was not as quick. This time she was feeling the effects of the blood loss. She stumbled several times, but she never lost her sense of direction. Although, the battle sounds between the two aliens made it near impossible to lose them. They hadn't strayed too far. In fact, they had shortened her trip altogether by heading in the direction of the cabin. Probably to finish the job, Amy thought cynically to herself.

The creatures were still a good ways up ahead. She hoped to keep enough distance between them so as not to draw any attention to herself. Plus, this gun was getting heavier and heavier.

She was visibly much more fragile than them. If one punch could shatter a tree, her skull didn't stand a chance.

Working quickly and as quietly as she could, Amy set to work to find a cleared, level piece of ground. In her mind, she would kneel, but reality proved to be different. Finding that she swayed too much kneeling, Amy decided to find a tree and lean back against it.

There, just a few more feet closer, was the perfect tree. Crawling as quietly as her condition allowed, Amy made her way to the tree. At this point, she barely felt the occasional briar branch snag at her skin and clothes. Her right shoulder was injured, and that was usually the side that her gun rested on.

Maneuvering the gun around a little, Amy decided the best course of action was to just suck up the pain and use her shoulder. There was no other way around it. She couldn't shoot worth shit left handed. And she didn't want to risk hitting the big guy who, for whatever reason, had attempted to save her.

Holding the gun steady while waiting for the right time was proving to be far more agonizing than she had anticipated. Her arm began to shake uncontrollably, but she still fought to keep her target in sight. Finally, after receiving a few more blows, the 'evil' alien seemed to take a breather to regroup. They were standing off and glaring at each other. It was the perfect opportunity.

Gritting her teeth against the pain, Amy held the gun as steady as ever, lined up the shot in the one place she assumed would actually kill one of these monsters, and pulled the trigger.

After the dull sounding thunk of a bullet colliding, the monster finally collapsed. The bullet had actually hit its target, right through the side of his large head. Unbelievable. She had done it.

At first, the masked alien just stared down at his dead nemesis, but eventually he looked over his shoulder at her. There was no way for Amy to know if he would be thankful for her interference, or angered.

Standing shakily on two legs, Amy leaned heavily against the tree. At some point, she had dropped the rifle. She looked down at it in bemusement because she hadn't even felt it leave her fingertips. That probably had something to do with how numb her arm was. Come to think of it, most of her body was feeling rather numb. That couldn't be good.

If she could have been a fly on a tree, she probably would have thought the panicked look she sent the big guy was comical. And if she could have remained a fly on a tree, she would have outright laughed at his reaction to seeing her collapse in a faint.

 **Author's Note: vampirelover 555, I took your advice to heart and made this chapter longer. I have a bad habit of stopping chapters at the first cliffhanger. I think all chapters should end with "dun dun dun" kind of flare, but that's me :P**

 **Anyhow, I hope this is enjoyable. I hardly had any sleep last night thanks to a couple of children who thought it would be fine to stay up until 4am...so I didn't think too much in terms of writing in all senses or whatever. I actually finished the part up until he told her to "Run" yesterday...but rather than ending the chapter there, I added the rest this morning. Have I mentioned I hate mornings? *grumble***


	6. Chapter 6

Kh'laz was in deep meditation. He regularly meditated when his mind was in conflict and he had any personal or societal issues needing to be addressed with a clear mind. His thoughts were at such a level of turmoil that he had never previously reached before. Not in all his years. After meditating for nearly an hour, Kh'laz felt no better.

And he knew the source of his turmoil was in his sleeping chambers, on his ship, currently passed out. The female had lost enough blood to be concerning, but after his ministrations, he was confident she would heal easily enough in time.

Meditation over, Kh'laz stood up and gazed around his surroundings again. It was now daylight. He had scouted the area nearby in the hopes to avoid possible _ooman_ detection. His ship was still cloaked, but the damage to the immediate vicinity could be suspicious. Surprisingly, this place seemed to hold no _ooman_ traffic other than this one female. He had found a dwelling further up the road he had investigated. After smelling the female's scent everywhere, he had walked inside to gaze among her home. It was definitely interesting. There were pictures on the wall with her hugging older _ooman._ Strange.

Then in another, different, dwelling, he had come across unique animals. After looking at the many pictures on the walls, Kh'laz gathered that these animals were another form of transportation.

This female _ooman_ had many different methods for transportation, Kh'laz realized. Impressive.

Throughout his inspection, he found himself peering at places and objects that had the _ooman_ written language in the hopes of learning the female's name. Kh'laz then left the house in a rush. To know another's name was considered a gift, an honor, and was always to be given freely.

Also in an attempt to avoid any suspicions from local _oomans,_ Kh'laz had pushed her large transportation all the way to her dwelling.

Satisfied that there was nothing more he could do outside, Kh'laz entered his ship. He needed to send word to his clan that he was ready to make the journey back home. With the Badblood dead and stored in his ship, there was nothing more to hold Kh'laz from going home. After ransacking the Badblood's ship for spare parts, he had taken the ship to a remote location and set it on self-destruct mode. That ought to at least keep the _oomans_ occupied further from this location. It hadn't taken Kh'laz long to repair his ship, and he was confident it would make the return trip intact. It would still need many repairs once home to return to its former glory, but that was an activity Kh'laz enjoyed almost as much as a hunt.

Yet, he had been stalling. He knew why. The solution to his turmoil was not so easy.

Putting off communications with his clan once again, Kh'laz paged Sci'zi. His voice crackled through the speakers, "Ah, Kh'laz, hunt successful?"

"Yes. The Badblood was not my kill though."

Kh'laz was sure Sci'zi's silence indicated his shock. "Explain." Sci'zi wasn't usually one for small talk.

"The _ooman_ female I encountered had that honor," Kh'laz answered with mirth. He wondered what his old friend would make of that information.

With a sudden bark of laughter, his friend answered, "I'm not saying I don't believe you, but the Elders may not."

Mandibles clicking together in amusement, Kh'laz solemnly pointed out, "I believe the _ooman_ bullet inside the Badblood's skull will end any debate on the matter."

"Ah, yes. Then there is the matter of how a female _ooman_ stole your hunt. The Elders may question your capabilities," Sci'zi teased Kh'laz.

Huffing, Kh'laz lightly growled back, "Do not make me challenge you to a _dtai'kai'-dte._ "

"It has been long since I have been honored with a fight challenge. You would make my day," Sci'zi let that sit in the air between them before asking, "Was the language data sufficient?"

Sighing, Kh'laz answered, "In time. All that I need has been received. Now I should manage conversation with the female."

Unable to contain himself of his curiosity, Sci'zi asked, "What do you plan for the female? You must know that protocol states you can only return your hunted back in the ship. One cannot even pick up stranded hunt brothers needing assistance. I am curious." The silence ticked by until Sci'zi wondered if Kh'laz would respond at all. But he knew there would be an answer. All he had to do was wait patiently. Kh'laz had always been a deep thinker, and therefore, never gave a response without much thought first.

"I do not know, _mei'hswei._ " It had been a long time since Kh'laz had used the title for Brother which let Sci'zi know that Kh'laz was confiding in him. Kh'laz continued, "If I leave, how will I find the female on my return? She could disappear."

Sci'zi would not involve himself in the dynamics of the controversial relationship between Yautja warriors and female _oomans._ But he knew Kh'laz did nothing lightly. He would honor his friend by not questioning him as many others most certainly would. "Kh'laz, it is simple. Chip the female. Then track later."

"What about ethics?"

Scoffing, Sci'zi declared, "I see no issue. It is not as if you will be handing the _ooman_ our technology. Anyway, about our earlier discussion. I was unable to retrieve communication data between the Badblood and clan connection. There was obviously someone from the clan's location sending frequencies, but whoever it was, covered their tracks well."

Growling, Kh'laz rumbled, "It is obvious though. Ih'gar is his twin. Of course he would help the Badblood. I will speak to the Arbitrators. Surely, it is only a matter of time before this betrayal is proven."

" _Paya_ willing, yes."

Switching the connection off, Kh'laz grabbed a medic box and headed for his private quarters. To the female. His bed was shaped like a large box that opened as if the top were a lid. He preferred the added defense the bed offered. For a moment, he simply stared down at the female, contemplating his next action. He had given her a dose to help with pain. Not fully understanding human physiology, Kh'laz may have given her too much.

But at least that would keep her unaware of the implant. Otherwise, it would be painful. Quickly choosing the most logical spot, Kh'laz released the mechanism into her flesh. Giving the chip a moment to settle, Kh'laz opened the Sat-com on his forearm to verify the connection was working.

When her location beeped on the holographic imaging, Kh'laz made several satisfied clicking sounds before closing the wrist computer and heading back to the control panel. She would wake soon.

Her reception to his presence was unknown.

. . . .

Amy's eyes fluttered slowly open. Everything was very disorienting.

When her brain registered the pain, her recollections of the recent events slammed into the forefront of her mind. Despite the various dull and sharp pains throughout her beat-up body, Amy jackknifed upright only to feel her head barely graze along the ceiling of her _tomb?_

Ceiling? She was in a box. Amy was beginning to panic.

At least it wasn't dark with the soft blue ambient light throughout the entire interior allowing her to see what little there was with ease.

Closing her eyes and utilizing the breathing techniques of that one yoga video she had seen, Amy tried to relax. She wasn't dead. She was alive.

Not dead. Alive.

Breath.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and started thinking. Taking stock of her body, she was shocked to discover all she had on were her panties!

She was clean and her wounds had been taken care of. Which meant someone had removed her clothes. And then put her in this box. Putting her face in her hands and leaning into her upraised knees, Amy tried to reason with the necessity of those actions. No big deal. Really, it wasn't. Clothes were removed every day within the confines of ambulances. It meant nothing.

Amy studied the wound in her shoulder and was pleasantly surprised and curious to see it was very nearly completely closed. This wound appeared to have at least a week or more of healing. Even the many bruises all over her body did not appear fresh. The pain was there, but she knew it wasn't near as bad as it could be. Which begged the question, how _long_ had she been unconscious?

Directing her attention back to the bed, Amy began feeling along the edges. There appeared to be a top and a bottom to the bed, and in between there was about an inch thick gap that lead to the outside. If she leaned down and gazed through the uniform gap, she could see that she was within a room.

It wasn't long after placing her outstretched hand within the gap that there was a whoosh sound and the top half of the bed began to slowly rise into the air, only to disappear into the wall behind her.

That is one fancy bed, Amy thought.

When she jumped out and landed on her feet, Amy felt a deep, painful twinge in her butt muscle. She didn't recall when she had injured her butt, but truthfully, it was quite possible with all she had went through.

Looking back at the bed, Amy was reminded of a giant waffle maker. Hilarious!

This room was very utilitarian. Cold almost. Although the air itself was rather warm. Amy was practically naked, yet she wasn't cold or chilled. There were two doors, one to the side of the bed, and the other directly opposite the bed. There were strange red lights above the door opposite the bed.

Before trying to find a way out, Amy brushed her hair in front to shield her nakedness just in case. Thinking smugly to herself, Amy knew waist length hair would come in handy one day. She was going to walk around Ariel style!

She walked over to the side door only to watch it whoosh to the side, only to find herself jumping back a little in astonishment. It had disappeared somehow into the wall, similar to the bed. The doorways reminded her of airport metal detectors. Cautiously stepping inside, lights automatically clicked on one by one. Before she had taken two steps inside, the door closed behind her with another whoosh.

After a small exploration, Amy concluded this had to be some sort of restroom. Not where she needed to be, although she really did need to pee. She would just hold it like she did when she was out in public. Unless the fullness became unbearable. Not a moment sooner.

Amy was just about to go back the way she had come when she heard a familiar whoosh behind her. Startled, she spun around, coming face to face with a massive hulk of alien.

The only sounds were those curious clicking sounds behind the mask, and a slight purr emitting from the alien. Yes, those sounds were coming from him!

Then she became aware that her hair was suddenly tickling her back. Gasping in embarrassment, Amy yanked her hair back in front and glared at him.

More guttural sounds from him. Had he just _laughed_?

. . . .

 _dtai'kai'-dte: fight_

 _mei'hswei: brother_

 _Paya: God/Conquering Warrior_

 **Author's Note: Ok, I will admit, I struggled with that chapter. Hope ya'll enjoyed it though!**


	7. Chapter 7

Amy tried really hard to remain calm. She had to fiercely remind herself that he had saved her. She wasn't dead because of him. But it was just _so_ hard to not feel little fissures of fear running down her spine.

Maintaining eye contact, Amy suddenly broke the silence, "Hey, big guy, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume here that you are not going to kill me. Or harm me." Taking a deep solidifying breath, she continued, "However, why don't we just stop the silent and deadly tactic with all of this terrifying body gear and stop crowding me." While she was speaking, her arms made a sweeping gesture to encompass his body from head to toe.

Confused, Kh'laz glanced down at himself, wondering what the female meant. He wasn't even in full armor. However, to show her that he could honor her wishes, he did step out of the doorway and watched her as she followed him slowly.

Amy was careful to keep her distance. She still had her reservations about him. His ability to speak her language helped with the adjustment, but this was still a very _alien_ situation, no pun intended.

Looking deceptively relaxed, the big guy's voice rumbled out unexpectedly, "Female, do you have questions?"

"First of all, I have a name. It's Amy. Second, if you want to have a sit down discussion, I need clothes. Where are my clothes?" Gesturing wildly to her body, he followed the movements with his head before striding over to the opposite wall, pressing a few key points. Compartments slid out of the wall, and he reached inside to pull out some garments.

He walked more slowly in her direction in an attempt not to frighten her, and handed her the clothing. "Top garment could not be salvaged."

Amy held out her filthy but intact sweatpants, and her red jacket. Holding the jacket out, she told him, "This was in my truck." She looked curiously into the eyes of his mask as he nodded and admitted to her, "I found it inside when I pushed your transport to your dwelling and thought it would be needed."

Glancing back down at her jacket, Amy tried not to think much on how thoughtful that really was. Definitely more considerate than all the men she knew personally. "Wait a minute…you _pushed_ my truck all the way to my house?" Holy heck, Amy wondered incredulously, that was a mean feat of impressive strength.

Rather than respond, the alien simply inclined his head her way, "I will leave you to dress. When you are ready, hit the left side of the door panel twice. The door will open. I will be waiting… _A-mee._ " And with a whoosh, he left her alone.

"Okie-dokie Annie Oakley," Amy joked to herself. Wasting no time, she hopped in her pants and pulled the lapels of her jacket over her chest.

For shits and giggles, Amy walked around the room rapping randomly on the walls hoping to uncover some secret compartment. But nothing happened. Apparently, it wasn't as easy as it looked.

Shrugging her shoulders in nonchalance, Amy finally decided she couldn't put her meeting off with the alien, and followed his instructions. Sure enough, the door beeped and whooshed open. Sighing, she stepped out into a science fiction reality. The walls were not exactly solid. There was a walkway leading off in opposite directions, but the walls were mostly made of tubes and pipes and cables of varying sizes. The walkway was like a large metal mesh that allowed her to see below. It was all very industrial.

She had seen him face right, so that's where she headed. Every so often, she would hear a hiss emit from one of the pipes next to the walkway, and she would jump. After the third time, she finally stopped reacting so childishly. On her way forward, she came to the conclusion that this was M.C Escher's industrialized version of stairs of Relativity. Ladders started several feet above her head that she saw no other way of climbing unless managing a nearly ten foot jump. Horizontal ladders beside the walkway and between some pipes that suddenly angled straight up or down.

How very odd, she thought. It was as if the Labyrinth had gone steampunk.

Amy remained on the walkway, but eventually came to a fork. Both ways looked the same. Crossing her arms in annoyance, she grumbled to herself, "How in the world does he expect me to find him in this place?"

Amy never claimed to have a sixth sense before, but she got a strong feeling she wasn't alone. And then she felt his heat right on her back.

Twirling around, she found the alien had been right behind her without emanating a single sound. She had to tilt her head back in order to look him straight on since he was a good foot and a half taller than her mere five foot five height. "I don't know how you do that, but that has got to stop." When he said nothing but chose rather to emit those strange clicking sounds, she continued feebly, "I got lost."

Pointing to her right, he told her, "That way."

Apparently, the big guy wanted her to lead while he followed closely behind her. He was probably worried she would snoop, although Amy was surprisingly not curious at all about an alien spaceship. Her only curiosity involved how the hell to get _off_.

It didn't take long for them to come into a larger open area that could only be described as the control room. The pilot's cockpit. It wasn't as massive as she would have assumed it would be. There were two seats in front of the large, wide, pedestal containing all the buttons and knobs and dials that were honestly far too complex for Amy to even begin to fathom an understanding.

Pointing to one of the chairs with an abrupt grunt, something she wasn't expecting, Amy obligingly sat down. He followed her movements by sitting in the chair beside her. After hitting a few buttons with his taloned fingers, he finally turned and gave her his full, undivided attention.

Now Amy didn't quite know what to make of having a massive, deadly alien's attention focused solely on her, but she tried not to show her discomfort. He started the conversation with one word, "Questions."

He was wondering if she had questions. Amy had so many questions she didn't know where to begin. Questions like, what are you, where do you come from, are you going to kill me, do you have sex like humans, and many more questions that were part logical and part perverse inquisitiveness. She had no idea where the perverse part was coming from, but it was in her head. She figured it was more apt to stick to logic.

Clearing her throat and nervously crossing her legs, Amy began, "I don't believe it is any of my business _why_ you are visiting our planet so I won't pry there. I mean, I guess the question that I really want to know is, am I going to be able to go home, you know alive and intact?"

After her question, he looked sharply over at the panel of buttons, gruff clicks coming out in apparent agitation. Looking back at her steadily, he answered, "I already said I would not harm. You can go home as soon as there is an understanding between us." Looking uncomfortably agitated, he continued, "It is against protocol to leave oomans alive that discover us and our technology. I will not kill you."

Sitting back in disbelief, Amy shakily laughed, "Well thanks, for not wanting to kill me, I guess. So I can just go home and continue my life as if this never happened? You should know that even if I were dumb enough to talk about all of this, nobody would believe me. I would be locked away, and I'm rather fond of my freedom." Amy was very nervous and couldn't help uncrossing and crossing her legs, and she was unaware that her constant movement was drawing attention to the gap in her jacket, revealing the occasional glimpse of the swell of her breasts. Kh'laz was very aware. Unbeknownst to her, though, she innocently continued her movements and speech, "We will go our separate ways, right? You will go back to your home and leave me be? No more of that stalking bullcrap."

At his silence, Amy asked sharply in sudden panic, "Right?"

"I will be back to find you. Your life cannot continue here."

Heart pounding, Amy was speechless. Whispering, Amy said, "I don't understand. Why do you need to find me again? I promise I will not say anything about you, if that's what you are concerned about." She was desperate now and imploring him with her eyes.

Hardened with resolve, Kh'laz barked out rougher than needed, "No need to go into those details or concerns at this time. There will be time for that later. Just know that I _have_ to come back. I would suggest you take care of what needs attention beforehand. Don't run. I _will_ find you."

Amy's mind was processing at a million light years as she stared down at her lap. She didn't understand how he could sound so confident on his ability to find her. Although, he had proven very astute finding her at the cabin, how could he find her if she chose to move somewhere very far away? "When you come back, are you planning on taking me to wherever it is that you come from?"

"Yes." One word was all it took to send her heart plummeting.

This was so unreal! Amy, scared and upset, jumped up and shouted, "Why? Tell me why dammit!" When she jumped up, in her angst, she slammed her hand down on his panel. Wrong move.

He jumped up as well, and before she could protest, he had her pinned against the pedestal, hands in his grip on either side of her hips. Unbelievably, he wasn't hurting her. His grip was solid and immovable, but he wasn't hurting her. He was making guttural hissing sounds as he leaned over her body, his dreadlocks brushing along her naked chest.

The sensation of those dreadlock-like appendages caressing her chest and sensitive nipples elicited a soft gasp and an uncontrollable shiver throughout her body. His quick pinning had tossed her jacket up to pool along her elbows. She was once again bare from the waist up. Bare to his gaze.

For a moment nothing was said, her breathing hard, him barely a reaction. Then, he slowly reached his hand up to her face, exactly as he had done in the cabin, except this time, he didn't stop at her face. No, he continued along her jawline, down her neck, and still, haltingly, the clawed tip of his finger made its way down to her naked chest, over the swell of her breast, to stop right above her suddenly, achingly, sensitive tip.

Suddenly, she wanted him to continue. She wanted him to touch her there. It was maddening, this suspense and unexpected need. It was so raw and primal.

Instead, he quickly removed his hand, yet just the barest hint of contact against the tip of her breast was still made, sending a shockwave of feeling straight to her core that weakened her knees. Before she could stumble, he grabbed her by the biceps and set her back in her seat.

Blushing profusely, Amy pulled her jacket together again. He didn't sit this time, choosing to stare down at her. Finally, he exhaled sharply, and told her, "I will take you home now."

Holy hell, what was _that_? What had just happened? Amy didn't know. She honestly, for once in her life, didn't know what to think, how to react, or what to say. She had never, not once, experienced a need such as that.

Not another word was said between them. Not as he started up his ship. Not when he landed in her yard. Not when he led her to the ramp. She walked down alone, and turned to stare at him. He looked at her for a few moments, but then he stepped backward into his ship, closed the ramp, and left.

Not a word. Not a farewell. Just a speck in the sky that disappeared quicker than any known jet she had ever seen.

Holding her jacket together tightly as the wind began whipping her hair around and staring up into the clear blue sky, Amy thought in bewilderment, what in tarnation was she to do now?

. . .

After Kh'laz directed his ship to leave Earth's atmosphere, he finally removed his mask.

Fully able to scent the female that he had just left, Kh'laz lost control.

Dropping to one knee with a loud thud, Kh'laz lifted his face to the ceilings and _roared_.

And roared. And roared.

He roared until his throat was raw.

 **Author's Note: Sorry, I had to come back and update this chapter after posting it, but I wanted to add that part about Kh'laz and it just wasn't working in my next chapter very well :/ Thanks for all the reviews until this point, they really do help to keep me motivated!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Sorry everyone! I know that compared to my previously quick updates, I took a while, and I'm really sorry for leaving you hanging! My littlest one was super sick, but hey, everything's well enough now that I was able to finish Chapter 8. I can't promise I will continue with updates nearly every day or every other day, so be patient!**

 **Disclaimer: Just to remind for the powers that be, I do not own any rights to Predator.**

 **. . .**

Kh'laz was still staring at his Sat-com, just as he had been for a while. When he had first left Earth's atmosphere, he had stared at the location of the female, seeing that she hadn't left her dwelling, to assure himself all would be well. Now that he was nearing the end of his journey, he was fighting his every instinct at leaving the female he had, in his own way, staked a claim on.

Slamming his fist down on the control panel, Kh'laz was struggling with control. And as his gaze wandered over to the very spot on his panel that the female had been up against, his fists tightened even more in agitation.

He had left his female.

His instincts were fighting with his logical mind. He knew he had had no choice but to follow protocol. Before he could bring the female back to his planet, he had to get approval from the Elders. He had to petition for that right. Although the use of oomans in a hunt as prey was becoming more non-existent, oomans were still viewed as inferior beings, animals, and no better than prey. It was a mindset difficult to stray from. The Yautja race had long lives, and the ooman advances had only been recent.

His thoughts strayed to the night in the forest when the female had killed the Badblood. To that moment when he had become strikingly aware he wanted the female for himself. He only prayed to _Paya_ that the Elders realized the same truth that Kh'laz was becoming accustomed to.

She was _his._

If not, and the Elders forbade his union with the ooman female, was he willing to go rogue on his clan? That was a question Kh'laz could not answer at this time.

. . .

Amy didn't leave her house for two days. In the beginning, she tried to convince herself none of the recent events had happened, until she moved, and was reminded why she was in pain. She had only been in the alien's ship nearly two days. Her wounds said quite the opposite, so Amy could only assume he had more developed medical technology than her world.

Visualizing that superior ship of his, she could definitely believe in more advances from his world. Her truck was _primitive_ compared to his ship.

Thinking of his ship led Amy's thoughts to what happened _in_ his ship, on his control center, and she began to blush profusely. Had that really happened? Had she really got all hot and bothered over an alien? Badass or not, he still wasn't human. Were they even physically compatible? She had no clue, but she was insanely curious.

Although Amy couldn't deny there had been a physical attraction between them, which, in no way meant she had to lose her damn mind. He had forewarned her that he would be back for her. She could only assume he would be back to this area to search for her. He knew where she lived. She knew he had been in her home.

But what if she left home? What if she took off to the other end of the country, or even left the country entirely? Surely he wouldn't be able to find her. There were billions of people all over the planet, and she was just one inconsequential person.

Feeling much calmer, Amy smiled to herself as she confidently thought, oh yes, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

After finishing chores in and around the house and with her horses, Amy called her insurance company and explained that there had been an accident with her truck and she would be on her way to town.

Amy critically viewed her beaten truck. She honestly had no idea how she could explain away the damage. At least the big guy had retrieved both the doors and placed them in the back. Sighing in defeat, Amy jumped in her truck and started it up. The engine fired up with no problem.

Thank goodness for the little things.

Less than two hours later, Amy was not feeling so gracious or thankful.

She was downright pissed and itching for a fight.

Brooke. The object of her current dilemma and feeling the direct heat of her glare. Brooke, who was also giving Amy a stare of her own, a stare that had more smugness than it ought to have.

"Brooke, you and I both know that I pay an exorbitant amount of insurance fees for my truck. Yet, absolutely _nothing_ is covered because I can't tell you exactly what caused the damage?" Amy tried really hard to keep her voice under control, but she was definitely vocalizing loud enough for nearby customers to glance uneasily and curiously in their direction.

Smiling her award winning saccharine fake grin, Brooke leaned closer to Amy and repeated the offensive speech, "Amy dear, your truck has some very questionable damage, and you can't tell me specifics. Was it a deer? Was it another car? Was it your fault? I need details."

Amy's visage was a look of deadpan seriousness as she stared into the cold blue eyes of her community nemesis. Brooke had never got over Joey Sutherland asking her out to prom before eventually asking Brooke. Joey had chosen Amy first, and Brooke couldn't get over that. Which was amazing, considering Brooke was Mrs. Joey Sutherland. It could also have something to do with the fact that two years ago, Joey had forcefully kissed her at local New Year's party.

Amy loathed Joey. Thinking of that slimy, wet, and foul-smelling beer kiss of his soured Amy's stomach. Psychologically, Amy could understand. Brooke was in denial. She couldn't be mad at Joey, so Amy was the next best thing.

Brooke had always been a self-entitled bitch anyway. Truthfully, she and Joey deserved each other.

Unfortunately, ever since Brooke had been hired on at Sutherland Insurance Company, Amy's policy had skyrocketed in price, and nothing was covered. She knew going with a different company was her only option, but she never seemed to have the time or motivation to call and spend an hour giving all of her personal information just for a quote.

Taking a deep breath, Amy explained to Brooke, "I told you. It was a freak accident at my farm. No one else was involved. In a way, yes, it was my fault, but last time I checked, I was covered for damage that is, in fact, my fault. Do I have to send a complaint over to the senior Mr. Sutherland in order to get anything approved around here?"

Rather than cower under that threat, Brooke's smile intensified. Oh boy. Leaning in dangerously closer, Brooke whispered low enough that nobody else could hear, "About that Amy. You see, after I told my dear father in law how an old school friend tried to seduce my husband and wreck my marriage, it was all I could do to convince him not to drop you on the spot. Go right ahead and tell him. Be my guest. And when he drops your policy, I'll make sure to update your information so finding another insurance company will be damn near impossible. And our prices will seem like nothing if you do find another company."

Amy sat there for a moment, completely unreadable. Simply staring expressionlessly at Brooke. If Brooke had really known Amy, she would have known enough to back off. To know that maybe she had gone too far.

What happened next, Amy could only attribute to the undue stress she had been under. Maybe she was a bit a reckless considering if things didn't go her way, she would no longer have to worry about people like Brooke. In a moment of reckless euphoria, Amy felt free.

Amy slapped Brooke right across the face. Wham! The crack echoed throughout the sterile, neutral office.

Every head in the office turned their way. Amy was standing ferociously above Brooke who was looking in shock up at Amy with her manicured hand against her stinging cheek.

Amy had no time to think about the consequences. At this point, she didn't care anymore.

Slapping her hands onto the desk, Amy leaned in to Brooke, "Oh, and Brookie dear, just a FYI, we've been under audio recording this entire time." Brooke's eyes widened in shock and fear as she tried to splutter her way out of the situation, but Amy cut her off, "Go ahead and try to fuck with me. I better have a Goddamn rental in two days, or else I'm going to sue the fuck out of all of you for slander and discrimination."

Amy ignored the stares and incessant murmuring. Small towns talk. She didn't care anymore. Let them talk. Whether of her own volition, or by alien spaceship, Amy wasn't going to be around much longer.

Two days later, her new rental car was ready to go. Amy had been half expecting the cops to show up at her door arresting her for assault charges. Surprisingly, she had heard nothing, other than her Grandma calling her up to question her on the rumors spreading like wildfire.

She reflected on the previous day's phone conversation. "Yes, Grandma, I slapped Brooke at the insurance office."

"Amy, your Grandpa and I love you very much, and we don't like to hear these things of our precious granddaughter. I know there has been tension, but did you have to react that way?"

Sighing, Amy admitted, "Grandma, Brooke has made business there horrifying for the last couple of years. She told old man Sutherland that I tried to seduce Joey of all things! They doubled my premium for no reason, and they never covered anything. I handled that. But then she threatened me. You know Daddy always told me to stick up for myself when the need arose. I thought this merited a defense."

"Hmmm, well if that's the case, I can understand, but we can only hope this doesn't affect your business any. Being a community member, you need to attain professionalism at all times."

Laughing, Amy joked, "On the contrary, maybe I'll get a break! Business has always been booming, and I could use less stress. By the way, there's something I need to talk to you about."

"Sure, sweetie, anything you need, I'm here."

Closing her eyes, Amy clenched the phone tight with emotion. Her Grandma's loving sincerity didn't make these decisions any easier. Throat tight, she began, "Look, um, Grandma, I have some issues I have to take care of. I can't really talk about it right now, but I'm going to have to leave town indefinitely. Not really sure how long exactly. Um…is there any way that Grandpa can check up on my horses for me? He doesn't need to do any physical work. I have someone hired to come and do all that. I would just like for someone I trust to come in and check. Makes this a lot easier for me."

"No problem. You know your Grandpa loves those horses as much as you. But dear, I can't help worrying about you." Lowering her voice as if she weren't all alone in her home, Grandma asked, "Does this have anything to do with drugs? If it is, maybe you should stay and get the support that you need, with your family. If you're worried about people talking, we can…"

Chuckling, Amy interrupted her Grandma, "No, that's not it Grandma! No, to be honest, it, uh, it has to do with a guy. I just need to leave town." It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.

"Oh. Hmmm. Well, if that's the case, I really can't give you any advice other than to take care of yourself. I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too Grandma. I'll make sure to call once a week, check up on you and Grandpa."

"You don't need to worry yourself about us, Amy. The church folks make sure we're all right. They have a couple of nice boys about your age, ya know," Grandma tried to hint, but Amy just sighed dramatically.

"Thanks anyway Grandma. I'll talk to you later. Love you." Before she could make a fool of herself and start the waterworks, Amy hung up.

Regardless of her family, Amy was ready to go. She had packed up her bags shortly after the call had ended. She packed lightly. And she didn't linger.

That's the way that she was. Once a decision had been made, she stuck it out. She didn't hesitate or doubt. She followed through with it. Life was too chaotic to second guess and doubt every action and plan.

Six months before, a friend and mentor had offered Amy a job to work for their local appraisal business. John Wilke had helped sponsor Amy for her appraisal apprenticeship. He had been a good friend of her dads back when they were younger. John was like the uncle she never had.

She had called him up two days ago, after the insurance debacle, and asked him if his offer still stood. He had readily accepted her, just as she knew he would. He and his wife were looking forward to her arrival. She would stay with them temporarily until she found her own place.

After all, two days was not nearly enough time to find a house to rent. She was winging most of this. And it felt good. Real good.

She felt safe with this decision. She wouldn't be looking over her shoulder. Eventually, she would come back.

Until then, her new home was going to be on the other end of the North American continent.

She hoped Alaska was as ready for her as she was for it.

Attractive alien or not, Amy wasn't ready to submit to the obvious chemistry between them. To a degree, Amy was wise enough to admit to herself that yeah, she was hiding. She was running away. She kept telling herself it was just from being taken away, from being abducted. She wasn't ready to admit that she was also running away from what she felt with the big guy.

Or the fact that she had never felt that with anyone else.

No, it was better not to think about that. Because if she thought to deeply in that direction, she might just be tempted to offer herself up on a silver platter, tied with a bow, and slathered with slippery whipped cream.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Author's Note: Hello everyone, sorry it has taken me so long to update. Now that the Holidays are over, my husband's days off are slim and far between, which means very little time or motivation. I'm a lucky gal though, because my husband is very supportive. I know quite a lot in regards to Yautja, however my husband reminded me there are others who may not be so inclined to understand terms such as "Unblooded". He keeps me going! And of course, everyone who has committed their time to reading this story. :) Enjoy!**_

Kh'laz conspicuously entered his planet's atmosphere and headed straight for his dwelling. He told no one of his return, even after he landed on top of his building. Keeping his arrival under the radar prevented there from being a potential ambush.

He may be home, but he was not going to relax while the air was ripe with betrayal.

After landing, Kh'laz stepped off his ship with his mask removed and breathed in deeply. He stood there a moment, soaking in his surroundings. There wasn't much vegetation where he lived, mostly buildings side by side, and stacked one on the other. Most dwellings were square or rectangular, and some, like his own, were circular. The only square was the box on top of his roof where he could land his ship. All the roofs were flat with no rails or anything to hold onto if you were to lose your footing near the edge.

The Yautja did not fear the fall. Having a protective barrier was simply unnecessary.

Kh'laz was a seasoned warrior, earning himself a higher rank in the hierarchy than the average Yautja. His building was completely his own. He did not share walls with nearby buildings, nor did his dwelling sit on top of a lower dwelling or even underneath a dwelling.

He lived alone.

Which is why he was taken aback when he walked onto the top floor of his dwelling to see Sci'zi casually sitting in what the oomans would refer to as the living room.

As soon as Kh'laz had recognized a foreign scent, his weapon had rested comfortably in his hand. His weapon was not raised because he would only raise his weapon for a known threat.

Kh'laz huffed as soon as Sci'zi looked over at him, watching him as he walked over to a wall and tossed his weapon on a waist high ledge built into the wall. With his back to Sci'zi, he asked, "If you were anyone other than who you are, Sci'zi, I would be showing you never to enter my dwelling uninvited again." Turning back around in time to see Sci'zi shrug his shoulders in a gesture of unconcern, he continued, "I assume you have news?"

Sci'zi patiently waited until Kh'laz had situated himself among the cushions in the recessed floor. Rather than couches, the Yautja typically utilized the center of a room with steps used as seats, comfortably with cushions or soft furs. Not all Yautja chose something that many considered an unnecessary luxury. Many Yautja were simple, hardened warriors who didn't care for luxuries or comforts.

Sci'zi was one of them. Yet he was not adverse to comfort when it was easily accessed.

Kh'laz studied Sci'zi for a moment. Many had commented on their uncanny similarities. Yautja were inherently very similar on a physical level, however, the finer details were all so different and complex, it was usually quite simple to tell one apart with another, akin to human genetic diversity. Kh'laz and Sci'zi were not as common as many Yautja in the fact that their skin tone was basic and a solid color rather than the typical mottled variety. The majority of their body was a darker olive color with only their chest and abdomens flushed with paler skin.

Their hair appendages were lengthy and thick with bulk. The color of their appendages was a green so dark, it was nearly black.

There were no spots or patterned skin anywhere else on their bodies. They had the exact same eye color as well. Although that wasn't as uncommon as the similar skin tones. They were exactly the same in height and muscular width. All Yautja were no shorter than seven feet in height. Many reached such great heights as greater than eight feet.

Kh'laz was a little more than seven feet. He wasn't the shortest, but he wasn't the tallest. Some Yautja grew as they aged, others did not.

Many speculated on them being brothers. Kh'laz knew who his Sire was. Sci'zi couldn't claim the same. His Bearer had never revealed the identity of Sci'zi's Sire.

Normally that implied his Bearer was ashamed or not satisfied with the Sire who had impregnated the female.

Finally breaking the silence, Sci'zi lazily remarked, "You never contacted the Elders."

Tensing slightly, Kh'laz admitted, "I did not. My mission had been sabotaged once already. I wasn't going to give the culprit another opportunity."

"Then nobody knows you are here. That is good. For now." Staring intently into Kh'laz's eyes, he warned, "Ih'gar is attempting to pin the Badblood's misdeeds upon your shoulders, attempting to dismantle your honor. They received a distress signal from your ship, but as of yet, no word from you. Normally, they would have heard back from within a day of your mission. You are assumed dead until further notice."

Kh'laz burned inside with anger. He stared down at his tightly clenched fist, lazily watching as his claws dug into the palm of his hand, creating one rivulet of blood slowly dripping onto a fur below.

Continuing in an attempt to distract Kh'laz, Sci'zi calmly said, "I attempted to defend you before the Elders. Luckily, your reputation with them is such that they are refusing to believe the implications Ih'gar claims. Your absence however, it is making many officials uncomfortable. They receive much pressure from Ih'gar."

"Ih'gar is messing with the wrong Yautja," Kh'laz growled. Kh'laz was planning on heading straight to the Elders upon his arrival, although he had not expected the need to defend his honor. All he had to do was show up.

Carrying the Badblood's body and the evidence collected from his ship would be more than sufficient. However, Ih'gar was another matter. Caution would need to be carefully exercised.

"Sci'zi, I need you to go down to the Barracks. Someone had to see something in regards to my ship. I'll give you credits in return. The Outcasts may only develop loose tongues once paid. I trust that you can handle this."

Snorting, Sci'zi stood up tall and proud while declaring, "Do not insult me. As if I can't handle a few Outcasts. It would be more enjoyable if it were challenging."

After discussing more plans and strategies in greater detail, Sci'zi left Kh'laz to his personal mission.

Kh'laz quickly went to work in preparing his gift to the Elders.

. . .

Any moment now, there would be a meeting taking place before the Elders and Ih'gar. The Elders had demanded Ih'gar provide irrefutable proof to the dishonor of Kh'laz, one of their greatest warriors who was expected to quickly attain status as an Elite. The Elders were paving the way for Kh'laz to take a position with the Elders.

Ih'gar had a plan to destroy Kh'laz in every way. He assumed that Kh'laz had perished upon impact. Although Ih'gar had not heard from his twin, he still held out the belief that his brother was alive.

He had taken data from his brother's ship, and using his advanced technological capabilities with their computer systems, placed the hard drive of information within the frequencies of Kh'laz's personal computer system. He hoped the Elders accepted the evidence. It wouldn't hold up to much hard scrutiny.

Ih'gar wanted to become Clan Leader. Without his brother, he couldn't accomplish all that needed done. He had been working toward his end goal for nigh on a century, and he was not going to let one glorified Yautja destroy his carefully laid out plans.

The town hall was a large circular building. In the center were large high backed chairs made of metal for each of the six Elders to sit upon as they decided on judgements. Typically whenever a Yautja entered the building, the Elders would already be seated.

This time, however, when Ih'gar entered the building, he had to stop short within the entrance where all the Elders were gathered. Since most of them were exceedingly taller than himself, Ih'gar could not make out what was before the Elders.

After a few grunts to expose his presence, they briefly looked back at him and moved out of the way. Making a pathway between them, Ih'gar finally had a clear unimpeded view of the meeting room.

Moving slowly forward in shock, Ih'gar could only stare at the vision before him.

His brother, Sii'el, was hanging down from the ceiling, strung up by his ankles.

He was clearly dead.

Ih'gar reached forward and touched the badblood mark of dishonor on his brother's wide forehead. He began to shake in anger. If his brother had never been so weak and careless to begin with, he never would have been caught killing the innocent.

All his plans were for naught!

Kh'laz would pay for this.

. . .

Kh'laz watched from the sidelines of the darkness as Ih'gar attempted to reign in his control. His anger. He knew the Elders were aware of his presence, but had wisely not given him away.

They too were studying Ih'gar and taking mental notes.

Finally, the Clan Leader Barruk, stepped forward to cut through the silence, "It appears that justice has been served with this renegade. What say you, Ih'gar?"

Ih'gar faced the tallest Yautja and boldly declared, "The evidence against my brother was false. His death is a crime."

All the Elder Yautja bristled at this declaration, simply because the Yautja do not condemn lightly. Before the Elders could rebuke Ih'gar, Kh'laz stepped out of the shadows.

"Elders, if I may, I can lend my knowledge of this case as I have been fortunate enough to have recently gone over the evidence."

Ih'gar spun around and pointed his claw at Kh'laz, demanding, "How would you know anything about the evidence? Unless you are admitting your own guilt!"

Kh'laz knew it was imperative that he remain calm. There was too much at stake here. "Ih'gar, I will admit that you are quite skilled and well-versed in the hidden depths of our technology. However, you're mistake was in assuming that I had failed in my mission, succumbing to the error of my ship. I was well aware of your attempts to imbed the Badblood's data evidence into my personal computer. Luckily, for me, I was able to contain the data, effectively limiting it to an easily accessible location without fully embedding into my software."

By this point, Ih'gar was breathing heavier. Noticeably so. Kh'laz never removed eye contact. He wanted the dishonorable Yautja to see that there was no fear in his eyes. Opening up the Sat-com on his forearm, Kh'laz began clacking away on the buttons. While a holographic image slowly began to form above his wrist gauntlet, Kh'laz explained to his audience, "I managed to find this recording of Ih'gar's brother. You can see here, irrefutably, that he was in fact the one who killed and maimed innocents on another sentient planet." Those who have done no harm should not be harmed, such as children and mothers and the sick or elderly. Those were the innocent.

And sure enough, everyone could see quite clearly who had been responsible for the brutal slaying of a few innocents. The Elder's had damned him when messages had been discovered. Messages that had not been hidden very well.

Ih'gar attempted to back pedal by explaining in an aggravated huff, as if he were just as bothered by his brother's actions, "I see now. His death was justified then. I apologize for any discord on my behavior." As if he thought an apology would be sufficient.

At this point, Kh'laz's rage cracked through his façade. Ih'gar was not going to weasel his way out of all that he had done. With a roar, Kh'laz ground out through his flared mandibles, "Your actions were every bit as dishonorable as your brother. You wanted my death! You sabotaged my ship in order to save a Badblood. A renegade not even fit to be called a Yautja! And then you try to pin his crimes on my honor?" Kh'laz was seething.

Ih'gar acted affronted while demanding for evidence. Ih'gar was great at manipulation and deceit. He had made it thus far undetected.

Elder Barruk inquired, "Kh'laz, do you have proof of these horrendous deeds? This is a serious accusation." Before Ih'gar had a chance to fully puff out his chest in arrogance, Barruk slanted his deep set eyes in his direction and continued, "But from what I have seen and witnessed for myself this night, Ih'gar will be banished for his dishonorable actions. If you can provide proof to your accusations, Kh'laz, then the council will have no choice but to sentence Ih'gar to death as a Badblood. To murder another Yautja is the worst crime of our race. Punishment will be swift."

Barruk had not even finished his verdict before Kh'laz paged someone with his Sat-com. Within moments, Sci'zi entered the council room along with another, much smaller and scrawnier Yautja. It was obvious this Yautja was an Outcast.

Outcasts were generally inferior in every way. They typically remained Unblooded their entire lives, regulated to menial, tedious jobs in the underworld of the Yautja culture. Unblooded Yautja's were those who had never made any distinguishable kills. Once a Yautja collected the trophy of a worthy kill, they were considered Blooded by Yautja society. Unlike the banished and the Badbloods, who lost the right to even their name, Outcasts were accepted within the Yautja culture even if it was with a certain disdain and prejudice.

This Outcast appeared very nervous, glancing from the group of Elders to Ih'gar and back again several times.

The Elders greeted Sci'zi and motioned for him to proceed with the purpose of his entrance. Sci'zi's voice boomed suddenly throughout the circular room as he began, "Kh'laz asked me to inquire and investigate into the deliberate sabotage of his ship. He suspected only an Outcast would manage as they are easily overlooked within the docking zones. My investigations led me to this Outcast, who with much persuasion, admitted that it was he who had been coerced and paid into sabotaging the ship of Kh'laz under the ruse of fuel and system checks. The sabotage was intended to end the life of Kh'laz before he was able to carry out his mission." Shoving the Outcast forward, Sci'zi harshly demanded, "Tell them!"

Quivering in fear and bowing his head as any subservient Outcast knows to do, he stammered out, "Yes, your Elders, he speaks the truth. I was much coerced and bribed to sabotage the ship. I had no idea who the ship belonged to."

With a flick of his wrist, Elder Barruk signaled for the death of the Outcast. Although they were Elders, they were quick in exacting justice.

Kh'laz and Sci'zi watched indifferently as the Elders literally ripped the Outcast limb from limb, blood spraying in every direction. With absolutely no skill or training, Outcast Yautja never stood a chance. Bright green blood decorated the floors, walls, and ceilings in dramatic splashes while the Yautja Elders remained oblivious to the mess on their own bodies. At one point, one of the Elders had speared the torso of the Outcast on the end of his wrist blades, effectively holding him steady as the Clan Leader grabbed the Outcast by the appendages on his head. Releasing his Scimitar, a singular serrated blade worn on the wrist, Barruk stabbed the Outcast straight through his windpipe, ripping to the right as his left arm yanked in the opposite direction.

The Outcast had effectively been beheaded and dismembered. A fitting end for a dishonorable Yautja.

Kh'laz remained aloof. He saw nothing wrong with this public execution because it was simply Yautja justice. The Yautja culture tolerated no dishonor as their laws were deeply entrenched in the very foundation of the meaning of the Honor Code.

Glancing over at Ih'gar, who had previously been frozen in the grips of fear and the perverse addictive thrill of a kill, Kh'laz swiftly comprehended Ih'gar was making an escape.

He ran after him with Sci'zi close on his heels when Ih'gar spun around and shot his plasma cannon in their direction. Kh'laz lunged left while Sci'zi rolled right. They were separated, and Ih'gar was getting away.

One of the Elder's had been hit. Kh'laz was the only one with his MedKit attached to his person. Sci'zi sensed Kh'laz's turmoil and motioned for him to stay while he chased after Ih'gar. Kh'laz wanted nothing more than to rip the life out of Ih'gar, but he was logical enough to realize it was better for him to stay.

Kh'laz rapidly stabilized the Elder Nan'he, second only to the Clan Leader. Luckily, the shot had merely resulted in the Elder losing part of his arm, from the elbow down. If the Elder Yautja had been anything other than an Elder, this wound would have been grievous. As an Elder, a Yautja had already proven their honor and worth to the Clan.

If Kh'laz were to suffer such a wound, the Clan would no longer rely on him, and he would lose his social standing within their society.

Two Elders helped Nah'he leave the building, headed toward a medic who could further heal the Yautja. He would live.

Kh'laz stood stoically beside the remaining Elders. After all, he still had a petition to make.

Before he could speak up, Sci'zi returned, bleeding from his side and empty handed.

"Ih'gar escaped."


	10. Chapter 10

Sparring no longer helped ease the turmoil in Kh'laz's mind. The Young Bloods were now avoiding him. Young Bloods usually sought out Blooded males with experience in order to further their own training before leaving for their first hunt. Once they brought back a worthy trophy, Young Bloods were officially considered Blooded in their society.

Kh'laz was not going easy on them. He had already sent three off favoring wounds, and headed in the opposite direction as him to the medic.

Kh'laz couldn't blame the Young Bloods for avoiding him. He only wished Sci'zi hadn't disappeared moments after declaring Ih'gar's escape. Sci'zi was more than capable of challenging him.

Unlike Sci'zi, Kh'laz was bound to his planet until further notice. His personal mission still required resolution. As much as he wanted to hunt Ih'gar, for once in his life, the hunt was not at the forefront of his mind.

He wanted his female. He wanted to claim her.

He _needed_ to claim her. It was a physical ache.

However, he had been forced to wait. The Elders wanted to wait for the injured Elder to heal properly, in body and in spirit, before resuming his duties.

It had been nine days and eight nights.

There was so much pent up energy and heat inside of him that sparring was the only activity that even came remotely close to easing it. In spite of that, the energy never fully went away. It was always there, ready to swallow him whole in its intensity.

It took all of his years of training and self-control not to storm up to the Elders and demand his due process.

For the thousandth time, Kh'laz gazed upon his Sat-com. And for the thousandth time, her signal was not there. It wouldn't be. He knew this, of course. There were several galaxies between his planet and hers.

Even with their phenomenal technology, the signal frequency would not be picked up with this distance between them.

After wandering aimlessly around his house, with no direction or purpose, Kh'laz let out an irritated growl. Yautja always had purpose. They were disciplined. They were prepared.

With sudden inspiration, Kh'laz headed to the market. He would prepare. There were items to purchase and questions to inquire on. After all, Kh'laz did have a female to care for. Soon enough, she would be sharing living spaces with him. Kh'laz did not take that responsibility lightly.

After completing all of his purchases, Kh'laz hired a Servant Yautja to carry everything back to his dwelling. Servant Yautja were considered freer, as in they could wander among the rest of society, and above the Outcast Yautja. Only just. The Servant Yautja Kh'laz hired was a sterile female. The Yautja society considered them useless. Many were given merciful killings. Unfortunately, sterile females were becoming more and more common.

Which is why it was considered a great honor to be chosen by a female Yautja in estrus.

Something Kh'laz never imagined himself turning away from. Until this day.

He was walking along the market, strolling while deep in thought, when he was suddenly jostled roughly by another Yautja walking past him. He turned around, a growl set in his throat, when he noticed the female. She was staring at him, which meant she was waiting for him to express his interest.

Looking around, Kh'laz could see that many of the male Yautja's had noticed the female and were eyeing him warily. They assumed he would initiate the mating signal, that he was interested.

Kh'laz gazed somberly into the eyes of the female Yautja. He recognized her. Draya. She wasn't one of the most formidable females around, but she had a certain reputation a quick temper. He had to proceed with the utmost care in this situation.

Normally, he would be honored to receive such interest. It didn't always result in a mating, but merely initiated the wooing beforehand. Kh'laz had mated on few times after a successful wooing, but none had resulted in offspring. That was the risk.

Draya was one of the darkest shades of Yautja. She was still watching him, waiting for his response. Kh'laz knew it would illicit surprise amongst the gawking Yautja. Surprise and shock.

But he felt absolutely no instinct or desire to engage with this female. As a result, he nodded his head once in her direction, as a gesture of respect, and declined her invitation by swiftly turning his back to her and walking off.

As he briskly paced away, he heard a few rapid clicks of agitation from several sources in all directions.

Apparently he had caused quite a stir at the market. Well, he had quite another shock for them in the coming future.

And Kh'laz was avidly looking forward to it.

. . .

Amy was settling nicely in Alaska. It was a bit colder than she typically liked, but all the people were like a breath of fresh air. So inviting and helpful! There weren't really a lot of people in the little town of Lorula, so there weren't a lot of available houses to rent. The one Bed and Breakfast wasn't equipped for long term stays either, plus Amy had wanted to give John Wilke and his wife Lorraine, some space.

She had only been here a little over a month, and once the townspeople learned she needed a place to stay, they all came together and fixed up a nice little one bedroom house on the outskirts of town. All for her.

Talk about a wonderful welcome gift!

It wasn't the nicest of houses, but it was more than sufficient for her needs. She had never been the type of person to acquire clutter and space savers. She could handle small. She could handle a little fixer upper.

It was quiet and peaceful, just like back home. What more could she ask for?

She had moved into the little blue house a couple days ago. Without much to unpack, she was free most of her spare time. And she quickly realized that John's offer for her to come up and work was more of an offer to come up and take it easy. His business was mainly located in Anchorage, yet he had a small office in his hometown so he could stay home with his wife most of the time. Mainly during the winter months when air travel was nearly impossible. Amy definitely had a lot of free time.

And so, she socialized. One of the only places in town to hang out at was a family restaurant that doubled as a bar. They just kept the tables for eating on one side for families, and the bar with the drinks on the other side. Since Amy didn't have a family and entered and left alone, she always sat at the bar.

Which is where she was currently seated. On a nice plushy red bar stool sipping at a stout beer from the Anchorage Brewing Company. It was stronger than she was used to so she sipped at it slowly. Amy didn't want to spend all her time drinking and socializing. She wanted to go exploring, and the easiest way to do that in Alaska was to go hunting.

First, she needed to find a hunting buddy.

Luckily, she had made fast friends with several people near her age group. The two she was closest with was Meredith, whose family had lived in this small town for at least four generations. She was younger than Amy, shorter than Amy, but her zest for life was a mile high. She was great to hang around with. Meredith was a real social butterfly, but she was starved for companionship. Most of the people their ages left Alaska, and if they didn't leave Alaska, they at least left for the bigger towns. Meredith, however, was a true Lorulian.

Then there was Dakota. He was nearing thirty, average height, average looks, but he was a true sweetheart. If he had lived anywhere else, Amy would've seen him happily settled down with a couple kids.

At first, Amy had assumed Meredith and Dakota were an item, but they were quick to correct her. They were third cousins, which wasn't unusual in such a small town. Another reason why many left for college and never came back.

Diversity and variety were too tempting.

As per the usual night, Meredith sat on Amy's left and Dakota sat on her right shortly after five in the evening. Meredith ordered her usual extra sweet tea because she knew she was a lightweight and respected that. Dakota had whatever was on tap that week.

Meredith hated silence, so she quickly jump started a conversation. "Hey Amy, I was talking to my cousin from Anchorage, and she doesn't believe me about your eyes. Can I take a picture and send her? Please?"

Amy was used to comments and stares and outbursts of disbelief surrounding her very rare eye condition. Usually it annoyed her. It was hard to tame down a lifetime of learned sarcastic responses, but looking into Meredith's overly bright, excited green eyes calmed her down considerably. Sighing in obvious exasperation, Amy grudgingly agreed, "Sure Meri. Also tell her it's called Heterochromia iridium. You know, there actually is a name for it." Amy rolled her eyes good naturedly as she took another sip of her drink.

Meredith gave her a droll stare and scoffed, "Like I can spell that. Puh-lease! Look at me. Hold still." After the camera click, Meredith said, "Thanks doll! She's going to be amazed! Although, you could have smiled. It won't kill you!"

While she rapidly texted her cousin, Dakota bumped his elbow against her side to get her attention as he leaned in close and whispered conspiratorially, "Don't mind her. That's just Meri. She means no insult. But for the record, I don't think there's anything freaky about your eyes. They're just unique, like you."

A little surprised, Amy looked into Dakota's warm brown eyes and suddenly had an epiphany.

Dakota was crushing on her.

Meredith had joked about it the previous week, but Amy had just thrown it off as if it were simply a joke. Now she could see that there had been more to it all along. Honestly she didn't know what to think about it.

Heart racing, Amy responded with a nervous chuckle and a quick thank you.

Amy was traversing through her thoughts when Meredith suddenly groaned in pain and sheepishly explained, "Amy, Dakota, I'm so sorry to do this to you guys, but I need to go home. I've had a headache all day, and suddenly with all this noise and smell of beer, it is one killer headache." Face full of contrition, she gazed at each of them in turn, and implored, "You don't mind do you?" The question was technically directed at both of them, yet Meredith settled her gaze in Amy's direction.

Without hesitation, Amy answered, "It's not a problem at all Meri. You shouldn't even concern yourself. Just go home, rest, and get better."

"Oh thanks guys! I'll see you tomorrow! Don't have too much fun without me!"

Watching Meredith easily glide through people and tables toward the door, Amy suspiciously thought back to her recent epiphany. She had a feeling that Meredith's headache was code for other ulterior motives. Motives that included Dakota.

Glancing over at Dakota, Amy realized he had been watching her rather than Meredith's retreating form.

It could be worse. Dakota was very nice. He was good looking. He had a job. Yes, he was a little on the quiet side, and as far as Amy had heard, he had never been in a serious relationship. Which Amy felt was odd for a good looking guy hitting thirty soon. But then again, he had lived in Alaska most of his life.

She shouldn't be too hard on him.

Trying to quell the sudden rising thought of a very specific large alien male, Amy tried to focus on the man sitting next to her. The very human, normal male.

There was absolutely no reason why she shouldn't give dating a chance. And maybe Dakota was the one to entice her.

Amy tried to motivate her feelings to follow her sudden logical reasoning. Even though her feelings refused to budge or stir next to Dakota. She just didn't feel anything.

No interest. No chemistry. No desire.

All she needed was time. Time could change anything. At least, that's what she kept telling herself even as her thoughts and dreams always strayed to her masked savior.

. . .

Finally, after a few more agonizing days, the Elders agreed to hear Kh'laz's petition. The Elders were curious. Kh'laz never so actively sought out the Elders for any matter. He was content with his life.

They were all seated on their high-backed metal chairs arranged in a crescent directly opposite Kh'laz, who stood, as was the custom.

Elder Barruk motioned his hand in a quick gesture signaling Kh'laz to begin.

Kh'laz had had many days to consider the wording of his petition. "Elders, I come before you this day to petition my right to lay claim to a mate."

Elder Barruk stirred and reminded Kh'laz with a deep, gravelly voice, "Kh'laz, as long as the female is willing to tie herself to you, there is no need to petition before us." Although the Elder issued this as a statement, there was an obvious question at the end.

Knowing this was where difficulties could supervene, Kh'laz bowed his head respectfully, "You are correct, Elder, and I would not waste your time for such a request. The nature of my petition is unique. Unusual. And I ask that I be heard out completely. I know there are questions that have been raised in regards to the death of the Badblood. It was not I who ended his life. It was a human female."

This declaration caused a slight stir among the Elders as Elder Barruk demanded, "Did you take care of this ooman problem? Did you ensure there were no traces of knowledge left behind?"

Elder Nan'he narrowed his eyes in Kh'laz's direction and laid his claws on Barruk's forearm. They communicated for a moment until Elder Barruk calmed down.

"You may explain the nature of your petition."

"I wish to mate with the human female who helped me in my mission."

There was an immediate uproar. All the Elders talked and argued amongst themselves to the point none could be understood. Elder Barruk simply glared at Kh'laz while Elder Nan'he whispered feverishly to the others.

Elder Nan'he broke protocol by addressing Kh'laz instead of Barruk. "Kh'laz, we know that you are a fine warrior Yautja, so please explain your reasoning to us so that we may understand your desires."

"My instincts tell me that this female is my _jehdin zazin lou-dte kale_."

And with that statement, all the Elders hushed. Not a sound could be heard. After all, to find that _one centered female_ to a Yautja male's existence, was extremely rare. There were only several such claimed permanent matings because of the Yautja longevity.

As far as any of them could deduce, there had never been such a claim for a human.

Elder Nan'he gently inquired, "Are you sure?"

Kh'laz was prompted to reveal the very moment he discovered this for himself. "When I was first exposed to the female, her scent was similar to a female in estrus. It was curious. I assumed any Yautja would react the same as I had. However, when the Badblood was exposed to her scent without his mask, he made no reaction. His instinct urged him to hunt her, then kill her. When he attacked her, I became aware that her scent was meant solely for me."

Gazing into the eyes of each Elder in turn, he ended his tale by saying, "That is the very moment I knew that by the grace of Paya, I was meant to claim this female. My instincts are urging me more strongly than the compulsion of the hunt. I no longer am affected by a female in our own society."

Elder Barruk gravely looked upon Kh'laz, one of their finest warriors, and responded, "Kh'laz, this clan has high hopes for you. You are third in line to the throne of the Hishian empire. If you are denounced, are you willing to accept that?"

With no hesitancy at all, Kh'laz answered, "I am more than willing to accept the consequences. Also, I am willing to continue my role within society. My skills will forever be at your disposal."

Elder Barruk's countenance was thoughtful while Elder Nan'he appeared amused.

Finally, Elder Nan'he broke the silence. He leaned forward to rest on his remaining arm and addressed the anxious warrior, "Kh'laz, I have much to thank you for. The entire clan has benefited from your services. I personally feel it would be a great waste and shame to allow one such as you to go rogue. There is much we do not know. We do not know a great deal about those who call to us specifically. We do not know why our females produce offspring less and less." Gazing slowly at each Elder in turn, he addressed them all, "We cannot let our bias and opinions of the human race to cloud what is right here. If Kh'laz wants to claim the female that calls to him, then we should not stop him."

Elder Barruk finally stood up and strode directly in front of Kh'laz. Standing a good two feet taller than Kh'laz, Barruk placed his much heavier arm on Kh'laz's shoulder in a gesture of acceptance, "Kh'laz, do what you must. You have the Clan's blessing. Peace be with you in your journey."

Bowing his head down in gratitude, Kh'laz expeditiously exited the building and headed for his ship.

Soon, Kh'laz thought eagerly to himself. Soon.

 _ **Author's Note: jehdin zazin lou-dte kale basically means soul mate. The Yautja refer to it as something else. When a Yautja can find that ONE being who can center them, that is the one they are meant to stay with. Some people think I'm nuts for taking a Predator and creating so much gooey romance, but that's me! I love romance, even with the "so-called" monsters.**_


	11. Chapter 11

**I just want to say how terribly sorry I am for not updating in MONTHS. It's been a rough year, and I lost motivation. This chapter is not as amazing as it should be, but I hope that once I get back into the swing of things, they will get better. Enjoy!**

 **. . . . . . . . .**

It had been another month in Alaska. The people were as nice as ever, if not more so now that they had gotten a chance to know her better. The job was as easy as ever. There was nothing more to do for the house.

In all truthfulness, her life there was practically perfect. Nearly.

But Amy was bored.

Beyond dull. Viewed in monotonous grey undertones, Amy thought to herself as she rested her chin in her hand and drummed her fingernails across her weathered desk at the office of Wilke's Appraisal Services Inc.

Amy quickly discovered there were only so many things to appraise in little old Lorula. Most of the townspeople stopped by to gossip rather than hire. It would have been better to have based herself in Anchorage, but she knew John had meant well for her. He had hoped she would take it easy. But taking it easy was not her cup of tea.

She really was trying. Meredith and Dakota had taken her hunting on the outskirts of town. It was exciting at first seeing the Elk grazing, and simply basking in their natural ways. For a little while, it was enough, but then Elk became no more than oversized deer. They were run of the mill where she was from. Like looking at the same robin outside your kitchen window every day for years.

Amy was in an anomalous mood, quite unlike herself. She was restless, unsure of herself, and feeling low.

Dropping her pen on the floor, Amy rolled her eyes to the peeling paint of the ceiling, and groaned in annoyance. Maybe it was just the cold getting to her, she absentmindedly considered as she reached down to pick up the pen. She had never liked the cold. She bemoaned summers that were anything less than scorching. Summer in Alaska was anything but torrid.

Someone came through the door to stand in front of her desk before she sat back up. Even knowing a customer was there couldn't stop her routine grumbling.

"Having a bad day?"

Glancing up, Amy had to swallow the urge to groan aloud again. Instead, she plastered an overly bright Cheshire cat smile. "Hi Nancy. Can I help you with anything?"

Nancy was Meredith's older sister. They didn't have the same mom so they had not grown up together, yet it was always a competition between the two. Meredith ignored it well but couldn't prevent the issues from touching those around her. Nancy had kept trying to befriend Amy shortly after Meredith and her had clicked.

Nancy didn't take too kindly to being thwarted. She had not been outwardly mean, there was just a sense that Amy had telling her to be wary.

Sitting down in the chair in front of the desk, Nancy smiled at Amy in a predatorial manner as Amy inwardly groaned. Her only outwardly sign of tension was her hand clenching and unclenching her pen.

"Can I help you today, Nancy?" Amy asked again.

Still looking all too pleased with herself, Nancy dismissed the question and continued with the reason for her visit. "Have you heard the news? It's everywhere," knowing full well Amy more than likely did not.

Struggling not to roll her eyes at a question that Nancy very well knew the answer to, Amy testily answered, "Nope. Can't say I pay attention to the news. Why bother when I have people like you to give me a rundown?"

Nancy lost the smirk but wasn't deterred. "They pulled two bodies out of the lake. Women. Speculation is that they are some of the women that went missing a year ago. Lots of women who come through town disappear but it's usually assumed they simply left. Alaska can be tough, ya know."

Although Amy felt bad for the family of those women, she really didn't see how gossiping about the issue was going to help anyone. When Amy failed to give Nancy the reaction she was expecting, Nancy huffed out, "Don't you realize what this means Amy? We have a killer nearby. Doesn't that concern you? The women murdered and disappearing are usually not from around here. Passerbys, if you will." Smirk back in place, she finished with, "Like you."

Momentarily flashing back to the moment the bad alien had roared at her, then shot her, Amy shivered uncontrollably. She didn't care if Nancy mistook that reaction for her gossip and implications. She had gone up against not one, but two, alien creatures. She had been up close and personal with one. Faced Death itself with another.

The thought of a serial killer failed to illicit any fear. Serial killers were _human._

Amy hoped Nancy would be done, but she pounced upon the thought of getting a negative reaction. "The killer could be _anyone_ here."

Looking up from the papers she had been blankly staring at while lost in her thoughts, Amy said, "It's a good thing I don't know anyone around here. I feel sorry for the person who comes up to me and tries anything funny. I know all about 'stranger danger' Nancy. I can take care of myself, but thanks for your thoughtful concern." She went back to her papers, shuffling some in her impatience. _Go away, go away_ , she thought to herself like a litany.

Nancy stood up rigidly and icily said, "Well Amy, it could also be someone you know."

"Like you Nancy? Are you confessing?" Amy chuckled lightly.

Just as Nancy opened her mouth to more than likely give Amy a tongue-lashing, Dakota walked through the door. Never before had Amy been so glad to see Dakota, awkwardness between them forgotten.

Before Amy could greet him, Nancy sidled up to him and began to openly flirt. Shortly after, Nancy must have given up and walked back out. Amy had refused to focus on the conversation.

Dakota sat on the edge of her desk rather than the vacated chair. "Hi, Amy. What did Nancy want?" He knew as well as she did that Nancy was trouble.

Without looking at him, she answered simply, "To warn me there was a killer on the loose."

Losing his easy smile, Dakota mused aloud, "And what did you think of it?"

"Not much honestly. Killers are everywhere. My life will go on whether I am aware of that fact or not," Amy intoned with a shrug of her shoulders.

Staring directly into her eyes, Dakota ventured, "I'm impressed with your outlook on life. Then if you aren't scared, what do you think of a hunt this weekend?"

Amy attempted to look enthused, but failed miserably. Dakota immediately noticed and looked at her in concern. "Is Alaskan hunting not up to par?"

Sighing loquaciously, Amy explained, "It's not that. I'm just so used to hunting deer, and Elk, after a while, are not much different. I need a challenge and traversing the same places for the same game has simply failed to keep me interested."

Dakota grinned sharply, "Good news then. Due to the unforeseen events occurring around the lake, we will need to travel further into the mountains." Hesitating and looking at her expectantly, he continued, "We can hunt mountain lions and even bears." He paused again while studying the excitement that flared in the depths of her eyes, seeming all too fascinated by that aspect of her, and finished, "Due to the complexity of this hunting trip, Meredith won't be able to join us. Is that okay with you?"

The thought of being alone with Dakota was nearly enough to put a damper on her excitement, but Amy rambled on regardless of the pause her subconscious invoked. If Dakota used the hunting excursion as an attempt to put the moves on her, Amy would simply put him down gently. She had already decided she simply wasn't ready for a relationship, not with the looming possibility of an alien coming back for her. He needn't be caught up in that.

Amy went home and began to prepare. And before she knew it, the time had arrived.

…

The road trip had been anticlimactic. Although the distance to their destination was not far, the journey was long due to the road conditions traversing around the mountain. She questioned Dakota for his reasoning. Why could they not have simply walked from one side of the mountain to the other? She was game.

The trip in the car had been a little over an hour, and now they had been walking for well into an hour. Amy was impatient to set up, but Dakota insisted they weren't to the perfect place yet. He insisted he had a make-shift cabin. They could stay the night if need be. Amy postulated to herself if that wasn't his intention to begin with. Keep her busy until nightfall in order that they sleep in the cabin together.

Amy simply sighed and persevered.

Eventually, she did manage to attempt hunting. But all they saw were Elk and more Elk. Only one bear with two cubs. Neither of them even aimed at the family. They just kept trekking. It was nearing evening, and Amy had long since given up hope of a successful kill. Dakota was further ahead of her. He appeared tense. She assumed he was as upset as she for a failed day. Breaking the monotonous silence of the wilderness, Amy suddenly asked, "Why was Nancy flirting with you? Aren't you cousins?"

Dakota was startled enough to stop and glance back at her. He smirked and answered with a question of his own, "Are you jealous?"

Smiling and shaking her head, Amy defended lightly, "I'm just curious. You can laugh all you want. I mean, if you want to date your cousin then I'll support you." Now she was openly laughing at him.

Rather than answer her, he faced onward and continued walking, "Actually we aren't cousins. Meredith's mother is my aunt, and since they don't share the same mom…." Dakota shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"And now, my curiosity is sated. Thank you."

Stopping once more to turn in her direction, Dakota, serious now, asked again, "So, were you jealous?"

Mouth agape, Amy didn't quite know how to respond. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. He was her friend.

Her eyes were drawn to a movement behind his left shoulder, up in the trees. A laser beam and tresses? Amy gasped audibly and pushed Dakota to her left, "Did you hear that?" The sound had been barely perceptible, and she hoped that Dakota had also heard it. She doubted herself at times because she would catch glimpses of something that would remind her of the alien, only for it to be nothing.

Regardless, she was now on high alert. And Dakota was staring at her oddly.

Amy then realized that her sixth sense had been screaming at her all day. Something wasn't right. She turned to Dakota to warn him that they needed to head back to the car immediately when a jarring pain behind her ear made the world go black.

There wasn't even enough time to think, _fuck._


	12. Chapter 12

She woke up slowly, awareness of her self and surroundings stubbornly clinging to the deep recesses of her conative mind. It felt like the morning after Wednesday night Penny Pitcher. For one brief moment, she expected to roll over and see the lumped form of her roommate.

But then she couldn't roll over and with a sickening lurch, the memories came zinging back so sharply against the backs of her eyelids that tears formed. She closed her eyes tightly as if to stave off the images.

The rest of her mind released like a dam until she was acutely and painfully aware of her arms zip-tied behind her back. She lay in a fetal position upon a cold, hard wooden floor. The grey light filtering through the tiny singular window explained to Amy that she had slept through the night. It was now morning. It wasn't too difficult to look around the cabin, which was more a shack than a cabin. One window. One door. No furniture. There were generic black duffel bags thrown haphazardly against one wall, but other than that, there was nothing to adorn this one room mountain abode.

After evaluating her physical form, she deduced that she was well enough given the circumstances. A slight headache was nothing. But she knew that certain death awaited her somewhere outside the cabin. She had been so certain the alien had been hovering so near over her shoulder that she had not considered the local serial killer a threat. It had cost her. And Dakota. With that thought, Amy gasped in dismay. Dakota! So far the serial killer had only killed women, but that did not necessarily imbibe him with a get out of jail free card.

Groaning from her bodily stiffness, Amy slowly and methodically maneuvered her hands down and around her feet, and after a quick seemingly painless pop of her shoulders, her bound hands were in front of her.

Amy liked to think of herself as a survivalist enthusiast even if she wasn't a practicing one. Cognizant of the fact there was limited time, Amy set to work using the laces of her boots to saw at the zip-tie, awkwardly maintaining a grip of the laces with one hand. It was slow and steady work, and it felt like forever with absolutely no progress, but eventually it began to pay off. Having no way to gauge time, Amy estimated it took roughly ten minutes before the plastic gave way with a muffled snap.

Standing up swiftly, heedless of her condition, she found the floor heaved under her strangely. And then it dawned on her that she must have been drugged, and what she was experiencing was the last vestiges of a tranquilizing drug leaving her system. There was a peculiar relief in this, as if she now had an excuse to recall nothing of how she had spent an entire night in a frigid cabin. It wasn't that she was weak. She needed to acknowledge her own strength now, for to imagine any sort of weakness would be an encumbrance she could not afford.

Having no idea how long she had been alone or if she was still alone, Amy decided to avoid the door, which left her only option the window. It was small but still large enough for her to wiggle through. The latches were old but rust free and relatively noiseless as she pushed it up. Unfortunately, the window refused to stay open so she used the short board provided on the windowsill to keep it propped up. It complicated her escape but not unduly, as she would have to wiggle very minimally and precisely without knocking the board. The last thing she needed was her abductor to hear the window slam down in a forest absent of any sounds other than the typical acoustics of nature.

To avoid a surprise detection, Amy hung out the window as far as she could perusing the vicinity. Seeing nothing, she promptly turned around and started out the window feet first. For one terrifying moment as she hung suspended from the window, she felt as if she were going to be caught. Her heart began racing. She jumped with a light 'oomph'. Her boots were muffled by the accumulation of decaying leaves against the building, but for one breathless moment in time, she refused to so much as blink.

And suddenly she had a strong urge to pee. She had a random thought wondering how people in horror films never seemed to have the desire to use the bathroom. Amy sobered her internal musings once she answered herself. This was no horror film. This was real life.

Intent on searching for Dakota, Amy stealthily crept toward the front of the cabin as quietly as she could. There were enough bird chirpings of multiple tones and volumes to cover the crinkle of the leaves, but anyone schooled in nature would easily point out the distinction.

Her thoughts began to wander despite her intense concentration. The tension of her situation served admirably to keep her aware and uneasily conscious of all that went on around her, but her mind still swiveled directly onto the alien. Had she imagined that brief glimpse of his form before her tumult into oblivion? She had been so sure. The more she thought, the more she began to realize she was reflecting as if she missed his presence. Was she disappointed that he had not come for her?

Amy stopped right before the corner of the building. She couldn't say for sure what she was feeling, but she would have welcomed his arrival. A serial killer could not compare to a monster such as he. But Amy was ever practical and refused to fantasize over a much-needed rescue.

Taking a deep breath to cage her ever-fluctuating courage in, Amy peeked around the corner.

There was Dakota's car. Someone had the passenger door open as they faced the front of the cabin. When the person made their way toward the trunk of the car, Amy whipped around the cabin. After hearing the pop of the trunk, Amy peeked around again. Thinking that Dakota had to be in the trunk, Amy focused more there rather than the person.

Her brows furrowed in confusion when all she saw were a bunch of mean-looking tools. Torture devices, thought Amy unbidden. Then her eyes skipped to the profile of the person merrily whistling to an upbeat tune.

 _Dakota._

Dakota was the serial killer!

She blinked in slow motion, as if her eyelashes were pushing against an impenetrable force, and tried to rearrange her thoughts in some semblance of normalcy. Her life depended on keeping calm. But she was frightened.

And betrayed. Amy couldn't conceive the thought of Dakota killing all those women.

Like a bucket of ice cold water pouring over her head, Amy wrenched her thoughts from the trough of sadness. Any minute now, he would discover his unwilling guest missing; she had to be far enough away to avoid another mishap.

There in an Alaskan forest, during the early hours of the muted morning, Amy set off in no particular direction with the sound of Dakota's hauntingly merry tune repeating over and over inside her head.

 _ **Author's Note: Hope everyone has had a good holiday. Happy New Year!**_


	13. Chapter 13

From high on a broken rock face overlooking the forest floor, a pair of deep set observant eyes followed the two humans as they made their way slowly between the trees. One male. One female.

Every instinct was on fire, urging him to charge down there and tear into the human. The female looked directly up at him and put her arm out toward the male as if in a protective gesture. The sentient inside of him flinched in response.

What he saw next stilled him to his core. His eyes narrowed to slits as he calculated the fastest path down the rocks. The male had hit the female in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious. The human male pulled a device out of his pocket and injected a substance into the leg of the female through her clothing.

Taking a deep steadying breath, he focused. He began to shiver, not with cold, but anticipation. His muscles throbbed with tension as his mandibles flared, filling his lungs in preparation to charge.

Rather than react, he turned his back to the scene and walked off as the night sky deepened, stripped bare in the growing cold. Stars burst forth like silent hungry sharks seeking the promise of bloody retribution.

…

The sky had lightened considerably since she left the cabin. It was more gray-colored than blue, as if it, like everything else, were faded by the fierceness of the cold. If only the sun were out and touching her skin, Amy contemplated somberly.

At first, she had focused more on stealth rather than quickness, struggling to avoid the debris haphazardly strewn with no sense of pattern. Not even five minutes into her escape, she had heard the first gunshot.

Her escaped had been discovered.

Amy ran. She weaved through the trees, maintaining the same direction. She ran until her chest was tight and her thighs burned, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop. Fear was her coach, demanding she not give up. She headed West, in the direction of town. If her escape had taken place during the night, she would have been hopelessly lost. The rising sun had appeared briefly to reset her internal map.

After awhile, she slowed to a walk, her eyes closed and the colors of exhaustion twinkled across her eyelids.

Cresting a hill, she broke free of a dense patch of needle leaves, lost her footing, and rolled gracelessly down a short embankment, one she had not noticed beforehand. Which surprised her; the drug must have dug its chemical claws deeper than she could have ever anticipated.

As she rolled, she heard a slight sound, like a ping. Dazed, she looked around at the trees and sky from her place on her back. So execrable was her situation, seemingly without hope, Amy briefly weighed the thought of simply lying there. No, she firmly told herself. _No_.

Remembering the noise, she eased up onto her elbows and scanned the immediate area. Her eyes fell upon a dart, laying a few feet before her.

Heart thumping, Amy concluded with a sickening lurch of her stomach, Dakota had found her. With the sudden crunch of nearby litterfall, Amy's frightened eyes met the determined, yet amused eyes of a crazed serial killer.

He grinned, shook his head slowly from side to side, then playfully whined, "That was my last tranquilizer Amy. Those aren't cheap, you know. I enjoy a good challenge though. Wouldn't you agree? That's why I invited you here." After holstering his gun, Dakota whipped out a viciously edged combat knife. He no longer resembled the man she thought she had known. "You seem just my type."

For a moment, hysteria bubbled up and she was conscious only of quelling it; she could not think, not even to decide why she wished to bottle up the panic – her pride automatically smothered her fear as best it could.

She shivered, sighed, sat up. "Did you kill all those women?"

Chuckling, he began to twiddle with the buttons of a vest Amy knew he had not been wearing previously. This vest was more army grade. "I figured you would make all the connections. You're smart; that's why I like you."

Her too loud, shaking voice rang out to echo among the silently listening trees, "Did you like all of them too? Is that why you killed them?"

Dakota laughed out loud this time. "This isn't a movie Amy. You aren't going to get me to confess all my sins, clearly painting a logical reason and backstory to why I kill women. Trying to psyche me into remembering my humanity." Staring straight into her eyes, he revealed, "There is no reason. I just want to. Now I'm going to be nice, and I'm going to give you three minutes to run." Spinning his knife comfortably, with ease and familiarity, he encouraged her, "I'll give you a chance. Go on now."

Amy had always been recalcitrant. Unwilling to listen and stubbornly difficult. Surreptitiously peeking to her left, she dove in the direction of the dart rather than run, for she knew she was too exhausted. Dakota had been trailing her all morning, deliberately whittling away at her stamina before making his move.

Just as her fingers closed around the unspent dart, a searing pain exploded in her hand. With a detached sense of disbelief, she eyed the stiletto knife sticking out of her hand. Grabbing the dart anyway, she bolted upright, yanking the knife out as she stumbled back, dizzy still from whatever was flowing through her bloodstream. There wasn't enough of a hilt to avoid the edges, she thought dimly as her other hand sliced open in an effort to remove the blade.

Dakota's vest was partially open, just enough to reveal the glittering arsenal of knives. "I have more than enough to leave you looking like a bleeding pin cushion, sweetheart."

Despite the blood oozing from her wound, she squeezed the blade tighter in preparation to fight for her life. Faster than a blink, Amy unexpectedly flung the knife sideways up at Dakota. It landed with a dull thunk.

Dakota looked down at his chest, knife protruded, then back at her. "That wasn't nice." He yanked the blade out with his gloved hand, and gingerly placed the blade back in his vest.

Her aim had been true only to be defeated by the vest's defenses.

They stared at the other, suspended and waiting, just like the drop of blood hanging from her clenched knuckle. As if in slow motion, the red bead fell to the ground below just as Dakota charged forward.

Tensing, Amy waited as long as she dared, and spun away just as he reached her side, pushing his left shoulder as she kicked the back of his knee. He landed on his knee but retained his balance. He attempted to grab her; she was too quick.

This time she did bolt. She tried to weave around trees in an attempt to keep a tree as a level of defense between Dakota's knives and her fleeing back. The dart felt like an anvil, wanting to be used and desperately reminding her of its presence. She lightly squeezed it as if in reassurance.

Her fresh wave of adrenaline was fading faster than Amy liked, her speed slowing quicker than a boat having just lost its motor on the water's surface. Dakota was used to this game, the chase; she was not.

Dakota slammed into her back with enough force to knock the wind out of her. They landed in a heap on the ground, rolling, her kicking and punching, unsure if her unfocused attempts to harm were productive or not. He grunted once, then backhanded her across the face.

It was enough to stop her struggling. He was straddling her stomach, his weight heavy and hindering her deep, erratic breaths. "Damn, you're a feisty one." He sounded excited.

Amy's eyes opened slowly, and she gazed out to the side, not wanting to look at Dakota, to see his triumphant countenance. Then she gasped.

Bones jutted from the ground at angles, spread enough to suggest an animal had picked at them, but still together enough to reveal the horrors of a human that once lived, and died alone. The skull was looking at her, mouth gaping in a silent, unheard scream long since forgotten.

Dakota noticed what had stricken her tense with horror. "Ah, now I know where we are. How fitting. Amy, meet Vivian. She's from Colorado." Then he spoke to the skull, "Vivian, you won't be alone soon enough." He laughed.

The thought of Dakota finding amusement in the death of that poor woman, Amy was filled with anger. Her body was spent, but she still had a fire and a fight that would not flicker out. She bucked her hips up to dislodge Dakota. She partially succeeded enough for her to crawl away on her side. He grabbed her ankle, and she suddenly flipped on her back to stare up at him and kick his chest as hard as she could, which wasn't hard at all. She didn't have the strength.

Although he didn't fall back completely, he lost his balance.

She was running again. Stumbling more than running, but she was up. It didn't take him long to attack again, this time with another knife. Amy cried out as it sunk into the muscles of her calf, effectively seizing up that leg when her foot tried to keep under her. She rolled into a tree. Gingerly sitting up, she placed her back up against the tree, and Amy was taken back to a time when she had been before a different kind of monster.

Two monsters, both completely different from the other. Yet, here before her was a human man who looked nothing like a monster, yet he was one of the most depraved beings she had ever met. He completely lacked empathy, whereas she had been saved and cared for by one who would be feared by his looks alone. One truly could not judge another by their cover, Amy mused tiredly to herself.

She closed her eyes in preparation for the end. She didn't want to die, but she was truly depleted, in mind and in spirit. She could hear the determined, heavy footfalls of the combat boots that Dakota wore. She vaguely recalled Meredith mentioning Dakota had been in the military.

"Are you ready, Amy?" Dakota taunted. He threw a knife at her. It buried itself in the tree inches from her face. She didn't open her eyes. He threw another on the other side of her face, landing mere inches. He was playing with her.

Finally, she looked at him, as he was still far enough that there was no need to raise her head to look up at him.

And then they were both startled by an unearthly roar. It was out of this world; literally, Amy knew. She recognized what it was, and who it belonged to. The roar was misleading, sounding farther away, as if whatever beast hunted them wasn't quite an immediate threat.

Dakota screamed in pain as a blade much larger than his landed in his thigh. "What the hell!" He yanked it out with much difficulty. "Who are you!? Show yourself, you coward!"

Silence.

And then another blade landed in the left shoulder, cleanly slicing through the protective vest. Amazingly, Dakota still stood, angrier than a hornet's nest.

Spinning in a circle, clutching his bleeding shoulder, he screamed into the watchful woods, "What the fuck do you want!?"

Amy apathetically watched the panicking Dakota as he looked away from her. As she was watching him, she felt the heavy thud of someone landing behind her.

Knowing what she would see, Amy slowly looked over her left shoulder, up high beyond the netted body, beyond the thick, beaded dreads, and up to the stoic metallic mask of the alien as he stared impassively ahead.

Then he gazed at her. His hands slowly clenched and unclenched, then he bolted. He charged toward Dakota like an angry Rhino, ready to plow its enemy to the death.


	14. Chapter 14

Amy stared wide-eyed at the alien as he charged at Dakota, who was unaware of his impending doom. As Dakota finally turned around to face his death, his eyes became saucers and his mouth gaped open. While he faced the karma of his own making, Amy thought idly to herself that she didn't even know the alien's name. And then she thought to herself that she must really be out of touch with reality to sit there and watch as a man was about to die and simply wonder about a name.

Dakota's cry of pain sharpened her waning focus, and she could see that the alien had tackled Dakota. He was sprawled, writhing on the ground with the brute force he was subjected to. Amy remembered the battle with the other alien and how the force had split the trunks of trees. Dakota didn't stand a chance.

She was more surprised his body had not exploded on the spot. Although, that was far too gruesome and unrealistic. Yet there she was imagining it.

Amy shook her head to clear those thoughts. Her mind kept wandering. Was this a symptom of shock?

Concentrating on the two before her, Amy watched as the alien simply towered over the cowering form of Dakota. He was shocked, which was to be expected. With a small sense of pride, Amy recalled having dealt with the shock with much more finesse and grace.

Dakota jumped up and stared. His eyes jumped to hers and back to the monster before him. Quickly, he pulled up his gun and shot a tranquilizer dart straight into the alien's muscled chest. Somehow, Amy was not surprised to catch Dakota in a lie. He had been saving that dart for her the entire time, allowing her to believe that her chance of escape had actually mattered.

It was with a good measure of satisfaction when the alien picked Dakota up by his throat, to watch him grasp at the massive hands holding him, as his legs kicked helplessly in the air, and to gaze on as his face turned a bright shade of puce. Even Amy was impressed when the alien flung, literally flung, Dakota several yards as if he were as light as a stuffed doll. Which, maybe to him, Dakota was.

The alien turned his heavy stare her way. They stared impassively at one another for what felt like several moments, but what was actually mere seconds. Slowly, he reached up and removed the dart as if it were no more bothersome than a pesky thorn. And Amy knew the darts threw quite the medicated punch.

Eventually, they both heard Dakota scrambling among the dead branches and leaves as he slowly attempted to stand up. He fell down a few times. That must have been a rough landing. The alien turned toward him and began striding once again in his direction. When Dakota noticed his approach, he held his hands up and implored, "What do you want? P-Please, do what you will with her!" Pointing frantically in Amy's direction, she had an insane urge to giggle.

This monster was here because of her. She had already been marked. Dakota had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time with her. Or the alien had shown up at the right time in the right place.

The suspenseful silence hung in the air as sharply as a guillotine moments before the drop. Amy blinked and he was gone. The alien had disappeared. Dakota was staring up in shock, blinking rapidly.

His cruel eyes pinned on her in desperation. "No hard feelings Amy, but this game has come to an end. I need to gut you so that monster will devour you. I have no intention of dying this day." With his declaration complete, Dakota took one step in her direction and was promptly flung to the left, as if he had been slapped by some invisible force.

Amy's eyes widened as she came to the realization that the alien had never left them. She thought back to the moment he had disappeared. It wasn't that he was too quick for their eyes, she ruminated. His hand had reached for his helmet. He was invisible.

Squinting, she could almost imagine a spot in the air that wavered and shimmered.

Dakota must have reached that same awareness when he bolted in the opposite direction, muttering "Fuck this" to himself. Amy sighed and closed her eyes. A moment later, something gently brushed down her face. She didn't bother opening her eyes; she knew there would be nothing to see.

Her hearing was sharpened with her eyes closed so she listened to the steady footfalls of the alien, nearly imperceptible even as she concentrated intensely. This alien truly was a formidable foe, and yet he was kind to her. Even gentle.

But that didn't detract from the fact that he was here to take her away. No matter his kindness. No matter how relieved she was that he was there, she did not want to leave the planet, something a few months before that didn't even seem feasible. In truth, she knew she feared the unknown, but she shut those thoughts down immediately. She didn't want to go there. She told herself it was as simple as that. She just didn't want to leave.

Waking with a jolt and a gasp, Amy sat upright, wincing from the pain shooting through her body, cruelly reminding her of recent events. With that thought in mind, she grabbed her arm and slowly pushed her body up along the tree, wincing as weight was applied to her bad leg.

Amy sighed and leaned her head back against the rough bark, grounding her. "What to do now, Amy. What to do," she mumbled quietly to herself, thinking as quickly as her tired mind was able.

She had no idea how long she had been out, but she estimated no more than an hour. There were no unusual sounds. No screams. No footsteps. Just normal forest sounds. Evening was right around the corner, ready to snatch away her chance for escape.

If there were ever a time to find her way out of this mess, it was now, while the alien was occupied with his prey.

With a groan and a push against the tree, Amy stood unsteadily and began to stumble-walk in the direction she hoped was freedom.

…

Dakota fell into a tree, gasping loudly from the jolt and his desperate exertions. Besides his knife wounds, he suspected he had a broken collarbone and a few cracked ribs. That monster packed quite a punch. After it had disappeared, Dakota had taken his escape.

He hadn't heard that thing for some time, so he only hoped it had made a meal of Amy. It may have stolen the satisfaction of his own kill, but there were more girls. Always more. That thought was enough to spur him on again.

He didn't want to be stuck out in the woods after dark, especially not with that thing around. By his calculations and familiarity with his environment, he knew he was nearing the cabin.

When he heard a branch from above crack, he looked up only to see he had been found. He stared stupidly at the monster as it landed with a loud thud he felt reverberate up his legs. Yelling in rage and frustration, he reached into his vest to begin raining knives, but it was too quick for him. One barely glanced off his torso as he raced toward him, only to veer off to his right, kick off a tree to land behind him. It all happened so quickly, Dakota had little time to react.

His head was brutally grabbed from behind, the rough skin rubbing painfully over his face by its clawed hand. Before he had even reached up in a futile attempt to pull the hand away, he felt a painful bite into his skin. From the start, he couldn't make the connection, then with horrific understanding, he realized he was being scalped.

His screams were muffled against the large hand covering his face. When the pressure was blessedly gone, Dakota blindly stumbled forward, unable to see clearly with torrents of blood streaming over his eyes, into his mouth, and drenching his vest. With shaky hands, he went to grab his head, but couldn't stomach the thought of touching what he knew would be his naked skull.

His gasps were sharp and painful as all coherent thought began to leave his mind as quickly as his blood was running down his face. Slowly he turned to look at his attacker. It stared calmly back at him. All he could hear were his own gasps and gurgles as blood ran into his mouth only to be spit back out.

Dakota noticed the monster look sharply down at the equipment on his arm. It made a sound similar to annoyance, Dakota curiously surmised dimly. Bringing up another weapon like a bulky baton, all Dakota heard before the impact was a whispering whistle.

Slowly, he looked down at his abdomen where a thin rope attached to the weapon was imbedded. He could feel the weight of the weapon at his back. He could feel blood trickling as he watched his center fill up with glistening red. Then before he could fully grasp his imminent death, the monster called its weapon back to the holster, ripping out his innards with it.

Laying on his side, shuddering and gasping his last breaths, he watched as the monster approached him. Its massive, tall frame loomed above his fallen form like the last tree in a dying forest. It sneered one word. "Badblood." Then it turned its back and walked away.

Despite the gentle wind, the tang of fresh blood hung in the air above the still corpse.

 _ **Author's Note: And there you have it, Dakota is finally dead. ;)**_


	15. Chapter 15

Amy was officially lost. She had messed up her directions, silently berating herself, and willfully fighting back tears. Normally she had it together. Normally she knew what the hell she was doing. Normally she wasn't attacked by a depraved serial killer and stalked by aliens.

Stumbling aimlessly between the trees, Amy just wished for her routine, boring life back. She was sorry for any complaint, no matter how large or meager it may have seemed at the time. She'd give anything for a day traveling for appraisals, an early evening grooming her horses, and a late night watching a familiar movie for the hundredth time.

Instead, she had traveled to the other end of the country avoiding an unknown fate, only to fall into the murderous hands of a killer. Should she just give in already? This whole escaping business was proving to be more than she could handle. Amy stopped to catch her breath as she contemplated her choices.

A bird startled in the near distance. And then another rushed into the sky.

She gasped and turned, quickly scanning the area, noticing nothing out of the ordinary. Which meant absolutely nothing with him. Acting on instinct, Amy turned and fled. There was a somewhat steep hillside she mostly slid down in her haste. The bite of thorns on her hands did not deter her. Up ahead was a creek that seemed to disappear into the hillside.

It was a waterfall.

A rather large, hidden one at that. Any other time, Amy would have stopped to smell the roses so to speak. Enjoy the scenery and explore, but at this point, she scurried over some rocks beside the falls and climbed down as best she could on the slippery shale rock.

Once she had jumped onto a ledge, she realized there was a medium sized cavern behind the waterfall itself. Steeling herself, Amy rushed behind the waters as quickly as she could, unable to completely avoid the shockingly cold Alaskan waters. Looking around, there was more than enough room for her to comfortably stand up. The perfect place to hide. Amy looked anxiously toward the back of the cavern, a myriad palette of different rocks. A thought slithered into her head without her permission. She was trapped. The cavern itself was about five feet deep by six foot tall, and fairly narrow.

Trying not to focus on the confines of her surroundings, Amy sat down and scooted until her back rested against the damp rocks, drew her knees up to her chest, and rested her chin on her arms holding her legs near. And she waited. For what, she couldn't think about, wouldn't acknowledge. She just waited.

Amy trembled from the fall of her adrenaline and the cold of the water and the dampness of the rocks. It began to seep into her skin, her muscles, her bones, until it leeched into the confines of her mind. She was numb. She was cold and wet and fed up with the foul ball that life had thrown her way recently, completely derailing her off course.

Feeling unusually despondent, Amy burrowed her face into her knees.

Amy felt the vibrations more than heard the drop, and she slowly lifted her head. She stared into the curtain of water, seeing nothing. The water began to part around a shimmering form. Amy's lips parted in a silent gasp. Slowly the alien became visible as whatever cloaking technology he had began to short from the contact with the water.

Crackling with blue static electricity, fully visible, stood the alien before her. Even stooped and unable to stand to his full height, he was silently magnificent. This creature who could find her anywhere. Maddeningly, horribly magnificent.

It was over. This hunt between them had come to its completed fruition. Amy was surprised to feel simple relief. Relief so profound that she slumped into darkness. She really needed to stop fainting around this guy, but that thought was quickly consumed.

Amy came to groggily as the alien was carrying her in his arms, listening to the steady hammering of his footfalls against the earthen ground. Even with the smooth metal of his arm plates, they were uncomfortable against her back. She looked up at him, studying his titanium-like mask. It was smooth but weathered from abuse with soldered symbols on the rounded top.

She sensed he was aware of her awakening, but he had yet to glance her way. Although he could have, behind the mask. When he suddenly stopped, she wrenched her gaze from his mask to examine the small clearing. Despite the deceptive appearances of nature, the incorporeal space ship of his was directly before them. The enormity of the situation and her waning time on Earth pressed down her, and Amy felt suffocated.

To get his attention, she knocked on the breastplate that covered one pectoral muscle, not exactly an effective form of armor if that was its functionality. She had been leaning into his rough skin of his exposed chest as his musty scent consumed her senses. When the thumping failed to get his attention, she gritted out, "Put me down. I can walk. Let me stand!"

Despite the forcefulness of her commands, he temperately set her on the ground, standing nearby in case she fainted again. His obvious display of concern threw Amy for a loop. Her confusion propelled her to step away hurriedly, only to face off with him. This was it. He towered over her a modest foot and a half, yet she did not feel intimidated or frightened. Surely this alluded there was nothing to fear, other than the unknown.

Attempting to view the unknown positively was challenging.

Without a single word of debate, Amy acquiesced quietly, "I realize this is the end. Here on Earth at least, for me. I'm not going to run anymore, which wasn't exactly working for me anyway." That last part was said ruefully more or less under her breath. "I have a request. To me, it would mean a great deal even if it resonates as weakness or a waste to you. I am taking a huge leap here and accepting my fate. I'm not arguing. But this next journey of my life would transition so much easier if you would let me bring my belongings." When he failed to respond, or react, she continued, "For familiarity. Please say something. I'm hanging out on a limb here."

Filled with nervous energy, Amy failed to contain the jump of apprehension when he abruptly strode toward her, only to point his taloned finger toward the region of her injured hand. She gazed upon the dried and fresh blood of her injuries. Her eyes were prompted back up to his mask when his gravelly voice broke the monotony of her own, "I have considered your request. First, your wounds require care."

Breathing a delicate sigh of relief, Amy smiled and agreed, "Of course. I wouldn't want anyone to ask me why I'm bleeding."

Amazingly, he seemed to tower over her in a superior way, standing more rigidly. "Speak to no one." His deep, guttural voice sounded more menacing than it already had been, which spoke volumes.

Tremulously, she readily complied, "I will do my utmost best to avoid the people like the plague." That appeared to mollify him.

Once inside, he led her to a familiar control room. Amy blushed after glancing at the control panel, remembering their intimate moment. He peeked back at her, almost as if he knew exactly what was running through her mind.

He trusted her to go along with him as he directed them to a new room. This room was a light gunmetal gray, which was refreshingly different from the dark gray-black of the rest of the ship. It was brighter and a tad cheerful in comparison.

There weren't any visible chairs that Amy could see, only a few work tables along the edges of the walls. He pointed toward one of the tables, but Amy internally measured the struggle of that one with reservation. She was reluctant to scramble atop it like a drunken sloth.

Noticing her hesitancy, he placed his hands around her ribcage and placed her solidly. He then turned around to gather what she assumed to be supplies as she furtively watched him. He was always so calm. So in control. Did anything get under his thick skin?

Supplies in hand, he sidled up next to her and grabbed her hand. When he promptly dove the needle toward her unsuspecting tender flesh, Amy jerked her hand back in alarm. "What do you think you're doing?" She practically shouted at him. "I don't know about you, but going to town on my hand with no medication to numb the pain is not my idea of medical attention. Your skin looks tougher than mine, and my pain tolerance is sensitive. Not sure if you noticed, buddy, but I'm human. We cry. We feel pain." He held the needle quietly, unsure, as if he were deep in thought. More gently, "Look, I can just go to the hospital real quick. They won't know a thing." She cocked her head to the side in an attempt to face his bent head.

Snapping to attention, he retorted, "No." Almost bristling as if somehow insulted, which made no sense to Amy, he thundered over to his supplies. Upon his return, he grabbed her hand and smeared a yellow ointment. Before she could react, the needle was in her flesh, causing her to jolt on the table. He paused and gazed patiently at her. Shrugging apologetically, she explained, "Sorry. I was expecting pain. That ointment works extremely fast."

Nodding in agreement, he studiously worked on repairing the jagged hole in her hand. Afterwards, he carefully bound and wrapped it.

Then, as he worked on her leg, Amy hoarsely inquired, "What's your name?" He halted the binding of her leg, so she cleared her throat and confessed shyly, "I just realized that I never asked your name before. I told you mine but failed to ask. Before." She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear as he continued to hold still.

"Kh'laz."

"Key Laz?" He nodded his head in acceptance of his name even though she spread out the syllables. The name suited him. It wasn't human.

He jolted her out of her musings with a light pat on her knee, letting her know he was done.

"Thank you…Kh'laz," she spoke matter of factly as she jumped to the floor without assistance.

"Follow me. I will walk to the transportation, but don't direct it into the city. I will meet you at your abode."

Smiling in humor, she interrupted, "It's called a car. And I live in a house. At least that's what we call it here." He listened.

Amy was perplexed at how closely his ship was to the cabin. If she had gone south, she literally would have run right into it.

Gazing into the rearview mirror, she wondered as she watched his still form how he was going to meet her at her place by foot. He couldn't take the ship near town. Either way, it was surreal to be back in the vehicle, and she was relieved to abandon it on the edge of town.

Although bandaged, Amy's clothing was still stained with blood and mud. She was astonished at how easily she avoided people as she meandered her way to the other side of town. Not many locals were out and about, probably subdued with the serial killer on the loose. Just as Amy sighed a breath of respite, she heard someone calling her name. Groaning, she rolled her head up to the heavens, "Nooo."

Turning around in dread, with a fake smile of welcome plastered to her face, Amy greeted in dismay, "Meredith!" She experienced a brief twinge of guilt over the death of Dakota, her cousin, before dismissing the feeling. He deserved it. The American justice system could have easily failed those women.

Meredith examined Amy closely, concern deeply etched into the lines of her face. Cautiously, she ventured, "Amy, it's a surprise to see you. You look a little worse for wear. Have you seen Dakota?"

Dread seizing her throat, Amy tentatively lied, "Oh, he's around. You know how he is." She awkwardly laughed it off, wishing the ground would swallow her whole.

Meredith glanced at the empty streets behind her, as if searching for her cousin herself. Amy gazed off into the distance herself in some failed attempt at camaraderie, so she was entirely unprepared for Meredith to reach for her shoulder as if to hug her.

Assuming Meredith was being her typical emotional self, Amy was startled to feel the blunt edge of a pistol against her abdomen. She gaped into Meredith's foreign, angry eyes.

"Move along, dear. It's time to finish what Dakota started."

Amy's heart plummeted. It couldn't be. Not Meredith too.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. It definitely keeps me motivated knowing that there are people waiting for me to get in gear.**

 **...**

In the end, they were all made of flesh that could be cut, and bones that could be broken.

And Death was awfully determined to meet her, it seemed, Amy thought to herself as Meredith quietly walked with her to the little blue house. To all curious eyes, it appeared to be no more than a simple late afternoon stroll. Nothing unusual.

Except for the heavy presence of the pistol.

After letting them both inside, Meredith pushed Amy on the little suede couch, then proceeded to stroll along gazing at random belongings on shelves, haphazardly swinging the pistol around. Amy eyed it warily.

Meredith spun on the balls of her feet, facing Amy with a serious deadpan expression. "So you got the best of Dakota, huh?" Giggling, she inquired, "I'm gonna have to ask the silly bastard how you managed that one." Amy sat quietly, deliberately tight-lipped.

Meredith's eyes narrowed with suspicion as she stared at Amy. She must have seen something in her expression. "Where is Dakota, Amy?"

"In the woods."

Like a lioness moving in for the kill, Meredith leaned toward Amy, nose to nose as she breathed dangerously, "How is Dakota?"

"He's, um…," Amy frantically thought of something to say until Meredith shouted, "Now, Amy! Tell me now!"

"He's dead." Amy hadn't seen his body, but she knew. Kh'laz would not have let him live.

Shrieking with bottled up rage, Meredith pistol whipped Amy on the side of the head. Meredith giggled and licked the blood off the gun. "Oh, we are going to have such fun, you and me. Who needs Dakota?"

. . .

Kh'laz had kept himself busy ensuring there was no evidence of his presence, while the thought of Amy was never far from his mind. The thought that she would try to run again. Or seek help from her people. No one could stop him. Part of him anticipated a good challenge. The thrill of a kill.

Rolling his shoulders tight with impatience, Kh'laz inspected the horizon in the direction his human had left. Questioning his readiness to her terms. Suddenly stilling, he had an inkling awareness. Opening the Sat-com along his forearm, he entered the keys to bring up Amy's tracker.

She was home. She was stationary. But her vitals were abnormal. He recognized the heart rate from previous hunts. Amy was scared.

Kh'laz growled softy and decided to follow his instincts. Abandoning the final preparations, Kh'laz blazed through the woods like an explosive cannonball, raging at himself for letting her go alone. Within a fraction of the time it took Amy to reach town, Kh'laz arrived at the discarded car.

Lingering briefly, he sniffed the area. There were no other smells. That did not alleviate his screaming intuition. Rather than go around the town, Kh'laz would have to go through the town, his way. He found a stairway on the outside of a building and jumped up to the first level, sending a pot careening to the concrete below. A woman stuck her head out the window, craning her neck up in surprise, but there was nothing to see. Shaking her head, she went back inside, shutting the window tight.

Kh'laz was already halfway up the building and at the final level, he jumped onto the roof of the building. He did not care if the humans heard him as he pelted out in a Hell-bent run, jumping from one building to another until he reached the end. There were no stairs on this end. He quickly calculated risks and made the leap, which was a feat even for him. Landing on the top of a much larger vehicle, Kh'laz rolled onto the ground after bouncing from the crumpled piece of metal. Kneeling on one knee, he evaluated his camouflage system. It was still functioning perfectly.

He had only traveled a little way when he promptly stopped. There was her scent. And another scent distinctive from Amy's. Whereas Amy's scent did not remind him of human, this new one did.

He squeezed his fingers into fists, rigid with unbridled violence.

The hunt was on. Within the confines of his mask formed the semblance of a grin.

. . .

The pain was intense. Shooting from one temple to the other with no mercy. Gingerly, she reached up and felt the warm, sticky blood from the gun. At least she was still conscious, Amy thought dispassionately to herself as she glared up at Meredith.

Amy was fuming. It was like a deep smoldering ache rising up from the bowels of Hell.

She glanced at her shaking, blood drenched hand. Head wounds were known to bleed a lot. It's just blood, not nuclear waste. Chill out, she internally chided herself.

Groaning lightly, Amy directed her thoughts to Meredith, "I am curious though. I have to admit I never in a million years would have suspected you. Dakota, yeah, I can see it. But you." Shaking her head bemusedly, Amy continued, "So, I'm going to ask the cliché question. Why? I already know Dakota is the serial killer, so it's not just me. Why have all these women killed? Did you befriend all of them, like me?"

Meredith laughed. It was a laugh Amy was not familiar with, and it sent chills down her back. "Because I'm bored," she shouted, still amused. "I'm so fucking bored! You know, at first I didn't think I'd like it. I didn't pick the first one. Dakota did. But when he came back and I watched the video of what he did to her. Put her through. _Hunted her_. I loved it! It was thrilling, and I wasn't even there!" Amy's eyes were wide with shock and disbelief.

Horror evident in her voice, Amy protested, "But it's wrong. Those were people with families!"

Meredith aimed the gun at her face, smiling widely, "I know right from wrong. Wrong is the fun one."

The rage that had been itching and boiling its way up finally overcame Amy's sensibilities as she jumped up from the couch and tackled Meredith. She was sick to death of being a victim, of hurting. At this point, it didn't matter if she died. She simply could not let Meredith continue murdering innocent people, even if she had to be the last. It was a hell of a way to die.

The gun went off inches from her side as they rolled around on the floor, each of them struggling for dominance. Amy finally gained control and slammed the gun hand to the ground, but Meredith refused to let go. Her grip was sound. Changing tactics, Amy slammed her fist into Meredith's face, causing her to cry out.

From the corner of her eye, Amy saw the dagger swinging down. In order to block the attack, Amy let go and rolled off. Breathing rapidly, they both stood up and stared at the other, reluctant to let their guards down.

Amy was the first to break eye contact as she looked beyond Meredith. She relaxed her pose and addressed Meredith calmly, "I wasn't alone in the woods with Dakota. There was someone else there."

Confused with the sudden revelation, Meredith taunted, "So what? What does that have to do with me or how you're about to die?" Meredith slowly raised the gun.

Swiftly and without warning, Meredith's gleeful expression changed to horror as her body was abruptly jerked, and her body limply collapsed to the ground. Her body twitched and spasmed as her glazed eyes slowly dimmed up at Amy.

Slowly, Amy glanced up and regarded Kh'laz consuming the presence of the living room. She gazed upon his mask and with great reluctance finally inspected what he was holding in his right hand.

A gleaming, dripping spine. Meredith's spine. Ripped from her body.

Her spine ripped from her body.

Amy ran to the corner of the room and puked until there was nothing left and dry heaved. She shook and gasped for breath as tears ran down her face.

He was so brutal and merciless. The carnal strength necessary for that was mind boggling. Amy simply focused on breathing, in and out. In and out, as she leaned against the wall for support. When her shaking was under control, she peeked over her shoulder. He was taking a vial out and dripping it onto Meredith's prone body.

And just like that, her body was gone. Dissolved. As if it never were.

Kh'laz was studying her. Finally, he held his hand out and spoke in that robotic guttural voice of his, "Come, Amy. It is time to go."


	17. Chapter 17

**Authors Note: Okay, so I know I don't normally do the author's note first, but I just wanted to say I apologize in advance for the delay and potential future delays. My entire world has kind of been upended. My 9 year old son was internationally kidnapped by his biological father, squired away on the island of Malta. This may sound crazy and illogical, but there's not a whole lot that I can do to get him back. I have to rely on government democracies and cooperations overseen by something called the Hague Convention Treaty. This is real. It is happening. It happens all the time actually. I would share the news story link on here, but that would be giving out a lot of private information I feel doesn't belong in here... I'm going to try and keep up with this story. At the very least, it will help keep my mind off of my life. Even if briefly.**

She yawned and stretched, gingerly pulling the knots of midnight fears out of her muscles. Then she froze as the recent familiar aches and pains rippled through her body. The fight for her life. Dakota. Running. Meredith.

Her violent and painful death. With a shudder, Amy forced those images from her mind.

Amy made a sweeping gaze of her surroundings. She really was on his ship. Not only were they _on_ his ship, but they were _in space._

In space.

It felt unreal. Yet she knew it was all too real. She had watched them leave. Watched as Earth grew smaller and smaller, until eventually it was no longer visible at all. Eventually, when her body could no longer hold her weight, she had collapsed before the wall to wall window.

She had felt weightless, as if she were in a dream state. Or like an odd, wakeful coma-state. Vaguely, she remembered Kh'laz gently picking her up and carrying her to a room.

And she had slept, for what felt like an abundant amount of time.

The room was familiar. She knew she had been in here before, but this time the top half of the bed remained in the wall. That was a welcome relief. At a loss, she sat on the surprisingly comfortable bed as she wondered how long she had slept. There were no clocks and no way to tell the passage of time. Hard to do that with a lack of a sun.

Then a question crossed her mind…was this _his_ bed? Leaning down, she lightly sniffed at the odd, tough fabric and concluded that it did smell of him. But she knew he had not slept with her because she had nearly taken up the entirety of the large bed.

Would they be expected to share the same room? The same bed? Were there other rooms? The ship was large, but didn't seem quite that large. While she contemplated those questions, Kh'laz had silently entered the room. He studied her a moment before purposefully making noise to announce his presence.

Amy jerked her head up suddenly as she heard the noise, her bi-colored eyes meeting his mask. Her heart thudded and she wondered if he could hear it. Not quite knowing what to say to him, Amy meekly asked, "So, what do you have around here for food?" Her stomach was beginning to make itself known.

He made no response, other than to incline his head in her direction and swivel quickly to exit the room. Amy scrambled out of bed to follow him.

He led her below decks, so to speak. The ladders provided were unlike any ladder she had ever climbed. Definitely not made for humans. It was a blatant reminder of how _alien_ all of this was. He stood quietly to the side as she struggled down the unusual ladder, not once offering to help. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or grateful.

After all, it would have felt demeaning had he simply plucked her in his arms as if she were a child.

The room it led to appeared to double as a type of utility room. Everything was dark metal and utilitarian. Although it was clean and practical looking, it was also sort of cluttered. It was lived in, and apparent that he spent a lot of his time down here.

There were no immediate chairs so Kh'laz grabbed something from under one of the many tables that resembled a metal barrel for her to sit on. It was tall. She had to hop up. Before she could react, he had placed an assortment of foods directly in front of her.

She studied them. None were familiar although she concluded most were of a fruit variety. Or berries. Never being one too scared to try new foods, she plopped one in her mouth.

Somewhat bitter, but definitely sweet enough. Amy managed to eat them all. Then she eyed the next item with less appeal. She avoided foods she knew she didn't enjoy. Foods like octopus and clams and mussels. Foods that were slimy and felt like rubber.

Whatever he had laid in front of her was some sort of slimy black meat. There was no way that was going in her mouth. Pointing to it, Amy admitted ruefully, "That looks awful. It looks similar to foods I won't eat."

Kh'laz stopped what he was doing to glance down at the food singled out by her finger. Without saying a word, he snatched it up, lifted his mask, and threw the offensive meat in his mouth.

It happened so quickly that Amy barely caught a glimpse of his face before shutting his mask down again. She had seen those protruding fangs though. That's what she would call them because she didn't have a name for them. It was like a terrifying "appendage-beard".

He continued to tinker while she sat beside him basically twiddling her thumbs.

Chiding cautiously, she said, "You haven't said one word to me since we left. Are you regretting bringing me along?" Would he take her back home?

Once again, he halted his ministrations when she spoke. His guttural voice replied, "No." Then he continued working as if she weren't even there.

Was this how it was going to be between them? To be totally ignored. The last seventy-two hours had been horrific enough without throwing in complete _planetary removal_ into the equation. But to top that off, she had no idea why she was with him, other than she had discovered him and his existence was top secret. And because he had said so. Which in reality, was not much of an answer!

Analyzing it from that perspective, Amy was suddenly irritated. He may be an alien, but he was a typical male! Glaring at him hotly, she huffed loudly off the stool and grumbled as she walked toward the ladder in the corner, "If you don't want to speak to me, there's no reason for me to be here."

Exiting with style was not in her cards. Not even making it to the second rung, Amy slipped and fell on her ass. Dazed for a second, Amy became conscious of an odd noise. She zeroed in on Kh'laz hunched over the table.

Eyes narrowing, she realized he was laughing at her! Her pride was smarting more than her rear, so she carefully climbed the ladder without asking for help and without retorting some smart remark. _What an ass,_ Amy growled to herself.

But then came the sneaky thought that although he was alien, he was still human-like. He was sentient. He had emotions. He could laugh and find humor. He had a hobby. He was caring and nurturing.

Then she realized that if he truly didn't want her around, he could have let her die. He didn't have to save her from Dakota. Or Meredith. Obviously, she was more than a mere nuisance.

Amy was so startled by the direction of her thoughts that she froze outside the bedroom door. _Great_ , she was relating to him. She was understanding him. To a degree.

Groaning, she rushed in and fell on the bed. Strangely feeling emotional, Amy imagined her life as it had been. Imagined herself strolling to the barn as carefree as she had always been, tending her horses. She thought of her grandmother's sweet tea and wondered if she would ever taste another likeness to anything she was used to.

Amy felt a little sad, although she thought a bit of her nostalgia was apprehension for the future, not necessarily fear of Kh'laz. Or being with him.

Although, she was fearful. Kh'laz was terrifying. And could be monstrous.

But did that necessarily mean she had to fear him? The question burned in the back of her mind as she lay on the bed.

. . .

Kh'laz continued to work on his equipment. He couldn't risk malfunctions or failures at any given crucial moment of survival. No longer would he make that mistake.

He also admitted to himself that it kept his mind off his companion. Even when she was no longer beside him, he could smell her, even diluted through the mask. She permeated the air around him as if her very smell had permanently seeped into his skin.

The instincts were riding him to mate her before they landed on his planet, to show the others she was off limits, but he knew how fragile humans were. The thought of losing control and harming her never quite left him. Silently, he regarded the empty impromptu stool she had sat on.

He would have to keep his mask on around her at all times. There could be no risks of an unwelcome response to her nearness.

Kh'laz also recognized that his human was not only fragile of body, but fragile of mind. She had not handled the death of the other human well. A human who had threatened her life and didn't deserve a reaction. He clenched his fists as he remembered the lost expression on her face as they left her planet. She had barely reacted at all to him, as if she were hiding in the safe recesses of her mind.

Strengthening her body and mind were now his number one priority. With that resolve in mind, he made his way to the control room to change directions. They would make a pit stop before landing on his home planet.


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: I apologize for the delay. I've been very busy with my current personal battle. I hate that this has taken so much from my writing. I never intended for this story to take me so long to complete. It is my goal to complete it though. Please bear with me. Thank you to all my supporters.**

 **. . . . . . . . .**

Kh'laz had been gone for what felt like hours to Amy. There was nothing to do. Nothing to occupy her mind -and no watch or clock to help. Not even something to look at, and after a time, the room began to appear cold and uninteresting. Although she had been far from tired upon entering the room, Amy felt ready for sleep. If she didn't discover something of interest, she was going to spend all her time sleeping. Which was not something Amy was known for divulging in freely.

Deciding she had had enough to contemplate on for one evening, she rolled over to try to sleep, but was jolted upright at the whoosh sound of the door opening. Would she ever get used to that?

Kh'laz filled the room with his powerful bearing. Amy watched him with trepidation as he moved around the room as if not even aware of her minimal presence. She was acutely aware of his.

When he began to remove his armor pieces and carefully place them in the hidden crevices in the walls, Amy voiced a startled question, "Are you sleeping in here?"

While carefully removing the device on his forearm, he slowly glanced at her. She could never tell where he was looking with his cold metal mask on. But she could feel the tingle of awareness of being watched. An age of signal of a time eons ago, back when humans were evolving. Once the item was put away, he turned to fully face her. Amy gulped at the attention. "This is where I sleep."

"Oh. Where do I sleep?"

He tilted his head in her direction as if not understanding her words. He pointed his clawed finger where she was sitting on the edge of the bed and declared, "There." The bed.

She glanced at the large, but not large enough, bed and back to him cautiously. "But don't you have another room?"

He huffed in annoyance and shook his head, his hair rolling along his massive shoulders. When she simply sat there in shock, he once again turned his back to her to remove his armor. It was now obvious that he was preparing for bed. This must be his nighttime ritual.

Of course, he wouldn't sleep in all that armor. She had no idea what his sleeping habits were like, but apparently, she was about to find out. If there were a couch or some other location for her to sleep, she would take it, but everywhere on this ship was hard and unyielding. Plus, she got the distinct impression that he fully _expected_ her to sleep in the same bed as him.

So be it.

Amy had to admit to herself that his movements were methodical and mesmerizing, the way he cared for each item, the way his muscles bunched with every slight movement. At that last thought, Amy scrunched her eyes in dismay and glanced away. What was she thinking?

Finally, he moved to the edge of his side of the bed and reached for the final body piece.

Arms thrown out, Amy yelled, "Wait! What are you doing?" She was _not_ ready to see his junk.

With his fingers at the edge of his "jock armor", Kh'laz stared at her, bristling. If Amy's sensibilities were not so frightened, she would have found the situation comical. Her hands shaking back and forth, shouting no in their own right, like a crazy person, and Kh'laz trying to disrobe according to his usual routine. But then some meddlesome human had to intervene in the most obnoxious way. Meddlesome human being her.

Apparently, these alien warriors were not shy. Kh'laz seemed to be calculating his options before striding over to the wall. Immediately, the lights turned off.

Amy stilled in the utter darkness. Testing the permeability of the lightless room, Amy placed her hand in front of her face. Nothing. She couldn't see anything, yet she could hear him moving around the room with ease. She waved her hand slowly, then quickly, as if gauging for any hint of movement.

With a shiver of embarrassment, Amy wondered if he could see her silly antics in the dark. She dropped her hand instantly, face flaming. In the dark, she could clearly hear the mechanical hiss as he removed his mask. Once that was put away, she felt the bed vibrate as he lay down. But a minimal, hardly noticeable sensation. It was a surprisingly firm and immovable mattress.

After a few tense moments where she sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, she heard him query, "Are you not tired?" His voice sounded harsher without his mask, with odd clicks and pops emitting with the syllables of her language. He spoke slowly as if he were not used to words.

Realizing she had no other recourse, she carefully laid down, worried that she would bump into his frame in the blinding darkness. Replying, Amy softly said, "Yes, I am. I was just thinking."

He made an odd grunt, huffing sound. A sound she took that meant acknowledgment of her words. She lay awake for a while listening to the sounds of his breathing. She had never slept the night with someone before. It was a vulnerability that had never settled well with her.

After what felt like hours, she finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

. . .

She woke slowly, still wading through the thick layers of sleep. Feeling super warm, Amy groaned roughly, and felt a slight jostling underneath her leg. Lacking the lucidity that came with wakefulness, Amy rolled over.

A thought tickled the back of her mind.

She shivered, sighed, and sat up.

Eyes blurry from the crud of sleep, Amy saw a fast blur leave the room. Her eyes widened in realization. Now she was wide awake.

The thought tickling was louder. It forced her to inspect her leg. Her very warm leg that also bore the imprint marks of Kh'laz's rough skin. She closed her eyes tightly, concluding with dread that she must have wrapped her legs around his while they slept.

Did he sleep? And for how long? Would he have been aware of her intertwined with him the whole time? These were thoughts that lingered as she woke more fully.

Later, despite still boiling from embarrassment, Amy chose to leave the room. Or rather, her rumbling stomach chose. She could only avoid him for so long. If she wanted to be fed, that would need to be reconsidered.

When she entered the control room, he was tapping quickly on the panel. She wondered idly how he managed such quickness with those sharp, bulky fingers of his. He paused infinitesimally. It was the only sign he gave that he knew she was there. Kh'laz turned his head and looked at her impassively.

Clearing her throat, Amy explained, "You wouldn't happen to have any food, would you?"

Startled, Amy stiffened when Kh'laz practically bolted from the chair to disappear beyond the room. He came back just as suddenly as he had left, walking slower as he held a bowl. He laid it carefully on the edge of the panel, on the farthest end from the electronics. The same place that invoked memories of another time.

Amy carefully sat on the other stool and observed the strange, greenish, thick liquid. It carried a slight odor with it; faintly pungent, obscurely encouraging. Definitely nothing like Preschool's unforgettable porridge.

Internally steeling herself, Amy grabbed the short, thick spoon and took a bite. She swallowed reflexively. It was bitter. But it was food. It was nourishment, and she knew when it was time to adapt.

That time was now.

When she was done, Kh'laz gathered the dishes and left. When he came back, he stood expectantly by her chair. She supervised him from the corner of her eyes, which widened when he huffed at her.

What did he want?

When she failed to move, he spun the chair around to face him. She had no idea it could move, but her thoughts faltered when he firmly grasped either side of her waist and lifted her to her feet. Grumbling, she brushed his hands off her, not liking feeling like a child.

"What do you want?" She glared into the gray metal of his mask.

"Follow me." He then walked around her, but she grabbed the crook of his elbow. He froze and inspected the hand on his arm.

"If you want something of me, just say so. I can't read your mind."

Turning fully toward her, he clicked at her with a merry, lilting sound. "When a Yautja face you head on, then that Yautja requires your full attention."

Tilting her head, Amy interjected, "What is Yautja?"

Kh'laz took the tip of his finger and touched her chest. "Human." Then he touched his own chest. "Yautja."

Amy's eyes widened with understanding. So his race were called Yautja. Revealing that tidbit of information felt like a step in the right direction.

"Follow me."

Still feeling as if she could trust him as much as an unknown alien species could be trusted, Amy obediently followed. He led her to a larger open area that Amy deduced was some sort of loading bay. There were some tools and weapons anchored to the walls to her left with electronics stationed to her right on the wall. They were different from the control panel though.

While she had been taking stock of her new environment, Kh'laz had been studying the weapons on the wall. He came over carrying a large spear with a wicked looking blade on the end. She eyed it warily, then yelped in shock and surprise when he tossed it in her direction. Fearing being run through on accident, she made sure to catch it.

Her eyebrows frowned with trepidation up at Kh'laz as she held the spear awkwardly away from her body.

Suddenly, he widened his stance in what she could only gather as a fighting one. "Protect yourself," he declared in a low and rough voice.

Tremulously, Amy whispered, "From what?"

"Me." And with that final word, Kh'laz charged her with an almighty roar that sent cold fingers of dread down her shivering spinal cord.

So much for that trust.

Amy dropped the stick and ran in the opposite direction.


	19. Chapter 19

**OKAY...I'M BACK. Just know that I am infinitely sorry that it's taken me damn near a year to post this chapter. I promise you, I wasn't intentionally cruel. As I explained previously, my child was kidnapped internationally. As I'm sure you can all understand, that was my #1 priority. THE GOOD NEWS...my son is back! I beat the odds, the unfavorable statistics. He's been back for a few months, but even back on native soil, my battle wasn't over. I had to then deal with this on a domestic/family court level. I'm happy to say that I will never have to worry about another kidnapping. EVER! With that relief, my anxieties and depression went out the door, and my muse has been treating me rather well lately.**

 **I just want to say, THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed during my absence. You kept reminding me that I had an obligation to fulfill, people who cared, people who just wanted me to get on with it already! :D I get it. I'll shut up already.**

 **. . . . . . . .**

Amy tried to run. She really did. It was the logical action to do with something so large and so scary roaring at her at full speed.

She didn't make it far. It was pathetic, really. Something rough and wiry hit her ankle and kept wrapping around and around. Her eyes widened in dismay a moment before the rope yanked her foot out from under her. Amy was left blinking in surprise on the floor.

Yelping in alarm, Amy was deftly picked up and flung high in the air -it seriously felt like flying- to land on a rough shoulder. Air escaped her mouth in a hiss as all the blood rushed to her head. Kh'laz untied her foot without a single word. She knew he tossed the rope because she watched it fly behind them as he strode quickly out of the room. It wasn't like him to carelessly leave something of his lying around.

Was he angry? He wasn't saying anything, and Amy wasn't sure which mood that signaled. He was always so quiet, it was difficult to distinguish. It was impossible to read body language when you hung like a limp fish over one's shoulder, she thought indignantly.

"Put me down." She squirmed to get free, but his hand tightened on her calf.

He was walking, turning down one of the corridors, but she wasn't familiar enough to determine where they were headed. Everything looked the same anyway and now she was upside down. Looking at his butt and the quick motions of the back of his muscular legs. She didn't know what to do with her hands. There was nothing to hold onto except for the piece that covered his butt, but how secure was that thing? It would be too awkward to find out.

Amy must have allowed herself to be lulled into a half-catatonic state where she failed to be fully aware of her surroundings because it took her by sudden astonishment when Kh'laz suddenly jumped, with her still tossed over his shoulder.

She squealed and grabbed the piece over his butt. She was touching his butt but there was nothing to be done for it as she hung on for dear life. Amy watched as they quickly moved up the short ladder. His skill was awe inspiring. His strength was terrifying.

A familiar noise interrupted her consciousness. They were in the bedroom. She half expected him to throw her on the bed. Anger could still be his issue. But instead, he knelt on the ground and plopped her on the edge. The sudden equilibrium change had her blindly reaching out to grab onto his shoulders.

Her multi-colored eyes finally rested squarely on his mask. He was watching her silently. His mood still escaped her and dammit she was intimidated!

"Are you mad?"

Rather than answer immediately, he reached up and placed his heavy hands on either side of her thighs, his touch scorching on her bare skin. Why had she not changed out of her comfortable shorts? His clawed thumbs began to rub her skin almost hypnotically.

Finally, he spoke. "Why did you run?" He sounded calm. He sounded curious. But there was a hint of something else. She tilted her head in thought. It almost sounded like impatience.

Huffing in annoyance, Amy retorted, "Why not? You were charging me like a feral bull! You could have killed me! Or did you not think about that?"

She should have known better than to goad him. He seemed rather prideful. Sure enough, his shoulders tensed in agitation. Her and her big mouth.

"I would not have killed you." He sounded irritated. Still in control though. Always in control. Kh'laz moved rapidly to stand facing away from her. Amy's eyes wandered lower to watch his hands clench and unclench. Well, if he wasn't vexed before, he was now. Huffing, he continued, "I can't train you if you run."

Shrugging nonchalantly, she said, "Then don't train me." It seemed like a no-brainer to her.

Kh'laz swiftly spun around to stare at her, bristling. Startled, Amy jumped. The energy crackling off him like static electricity was enough to raise the hairs on her arms and legs. Amy shivered imperceptibly.

Kh'laz noticed. He noticed everything. Relaxing, he intoned, "There is no question about whether you should be trained or not. You will be. My planet is harsh, brutal, and deadly to weaker species. You need to learn to fend off attacks should it ever be needed."

Amy was inwardly bristling herself at the implied insinuation of 'weaker species', knowing full and well he was calling her weak. Although she grudgingly acknowledged that compared to him, there was no question of who was weak. But then that flicker deep inside her soul whispered, _But had she not killed one of his kind? Had she not survived an impressive length of time against, not one, but two killers?_

Then the more rational side of her retorted back, _yeah, but she'd be dead without the aid of Kh'laz._

Sighing loudly, she couldn't think of how to argue the need for survival training. She did grumble, "Then why do we have to go to your planet? Why take me somewhere that could kill me?"

"I will not let you die." The vehement finality of that statement resonated with Amy's core. She was momentarily speechless as she blinked stupidly at him.

Clearing her throat, Amy delicately queried, "So, um, what _do_ you want me to do exactly? Besides run away."

"Hone and use your instinct." Kh'laz spoke as if it were so simple, so obvious.

Amy opened her mouth, then shut it as her brows furrowed. She laughed softly. His head tilted in that unique way of his. "My instinct told me to run. Just so you know." When he remained quiet, she explained, "I'm human. You know this. I _am_ weaker, as you so eloquently pointed out earlier. I _am_ easily killed, I'm sure. As much as I don't want to admit that, it's true. Your instincts are different than mine. Your lifestyle is different than mine. You need to be patient with me. You need to communicate with me and tell me exactly what you expect of me, because otherwise, we aren't going to be on the same wavelength." She finished with a shrug.

He was quiet for a few minutes. Contemplative.

When she had finished her short speech, she looked down at her knees, and when she glanced up, he was _right there_. He could move frighteningly quiet when he wanted to.

He gingerly sat beside her and began rubbing her back, as if to comfort and soothe. Then her ears picked up on the sounds coming from his chest. Those relaxing vibrations. His addicting warmth. _Addicting, what,_ she thought confusedly to herself. The sensation did things to her that she didn't care to focus on. Her eyes were tightly closed in a vain attempt to drown out the sensations and her body's reaction.

Exhaling shakily, she peeked up at him from her lashes, and asked softly. "What are you doing?"

Kh'laz froze. He peered down at her intensely. Slowly but firmly, he moved his hand to the side of her waist and firmly pulled her against his chest where her hands rested. She could feel his mask against her hair. Was he smelling her? This was familiar.

The sounds started again. Her hands were on his chest. She didn't know where else to put them. And his chest was very muscular. In fact, his entire body rippled with muscle.

Why was she thinking about his muscles? Why was his skin always so hot? The heat came off him like a wood stove.

Absently, she began rubbing the contours of his pectoral muscles.

Kh'laz stiffened. His hand lowered to the curve of her hip, and she gasped.

Her stomach unexpectedly rumbled deeply.

Amy chuckled awkwardly. "Is it lunchtime?"

Kh'laz removed his hand from her hip, almost reluctantly as he stood slowly. His voice grated rougher than usual, "Your training continues after you eat."

Amy was left staring at the empty doorway, alone with her thoughts and traitorous body. She couldn't deny it any longer. She was inexplicably and undeniably attracted to Kh'laz. He wasn't human but was humanoid. There were no other humans around to judge her, nor was it looking likely she would ever see another human again.

She sighed loudly. What was she thinking? Was she really contemplating being _with_ an alien? A violent one at that. _But he wasn't violent with her._ No, in fact, he was downright gentle and even caring with her. More so than all the men she had tried to date.

What about Kh'laz? Did he find her attractive? She suspected he did based off of some of their interactions, but how did he feel with her being human? Weaker. Less than. She frowned at that thought. There were a lot of unknowns. Amy decided it would be best to let him make the first move. There was only so much she could glean with all that was unfamiliar around her. It was all so overwhelming.

Her stomach rumbled again, gently reminding her that she needed sustenance. She would need the energy without a doubt. Especially with the upcoming training session.

Groaning dejectedly, she moved to follow Kh'laz. He wasn't in sight, but she knew he would be in the control room. Squaring her shoulders, Amy pushed the thought of training from her mind and kept going. That's all she could do. One day at a time. Her future was one big vast unknown, much like the infinite galaxy they flew through.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: Just a reminder that this is a MATURE Fanfic. This chapter is mature and contains sexual tension.**

Amy was falling backwards, unable to stop herself from landing on her back with a deep, unwelcome grunt of pain. Not completely unexpected though. She had seen his fist coming. She knew it would hit her stomach. It's not that she didn't want to stop the impact, because she absolutely did. She had simply been unable to block or evade.

Kh'laz hadn't even hit her that hard, she knew. He was going ridiculously easy on her, using every single failed attempt as a teaching lesson. Amy had to admit that in all honesty, although it was turning out to be a painful experience, it really didn't hurt _that much._ No worse than falling off a horse, which she had done multiple times. The control he was exhibiting was otherworldly. _He_ was out of her world, quite literally.

She thoughtfully chewed on her lower lip as she contemplated what kind of training he had endured to have attained so much control. And when she started thinking on his control, she began to picture defined musculature.

"Ooman, why are you eating your face?"

Amy's head jerked toward Kh'laz in confusion, blushing at hearing his voice during the wandering of her thoughts, and then understanding dawned in the widening of her eyes. A sudden snort preceded the laughter. Laughter hard enough to make the hit she took twinge with discomfort, Amy tried to muffle the sounds with her hands, but couldn't contain the sounds of deep mirth. He thought she was eating her face? Because she was a lip chewer?

This was hilarious. The big guy didn't know that in her culture, it was viewed as a sexual stimulant for some. Amy laughed harder when she imagined his reaction once she explained it. Not that she would. When she was calm enough to peek over at him, he stood there, still as ever, with his head cocked curiously at her, as if he couldn't quite understand her reaction. Thank goodness for small things.

Before her chuckles had completely died down, Kh'laz was standing over her with his hand held out toward her. Taking it, she allowed herself to be yanked up.

He gave her a moment to collect herself before inquiring, "Are you ready to continue?"

She replied with a sigh, "Not really, but I don't think you're going to let me off that easily."

He tilted his head forward slowly in acknowledgement of her observation.

Amy sighed again. Of course not.

Her mind wandered to the few weeks of lessons of Ju-jitsu a few years ago. She hadn't stuck around long enough to really learn much. After signing up following the initial sign-ups, she had arrived to learn how to fight with her legs and how to block. Using the momentum of your opponent to overcome a charge was not quite something she had truly grasped.

She doubted she ever would. It would surely come in handy right about now.

Kh'laz walked over to the wall with rows and rows of weaponry and yanked two spears off the rack. After handing one to her, he warned her, "Prepare yourself. Remember what I told you. The weapon is an extension of you; it is part of you."

Mentally preparing herself, she nodded. Listening to him talk, describing exactly how she should react and move and counteract was fascinating. He was well versed and experienced. With him vocalizing fighting techniques, Amy could easily visualize how she would move in her head. However, she quickly discovered her body didn't move around as gracefully as her mind imagined it would.

His muscular body flexing, he held the spear into a defensive position. Amy looked at him dully.

With a growl, the alien lunged.

They had done this before, so she knew what he expected of her. With a turn of her arm, she brought the spear into a blocking position, her legs bracing for the impact as alien metal struck alien metal. The noise was strange, somehow more painful than receiving the blow. Her arms ached, but she continued to deflect and parry.

Despite not even using half of his strength, he was stronger, and she grunted at the force required to hold her weapon against his.

Kh'laz began to increase the speed of his attacks, pushing her to within her human limitations. She began to stumble, barely blocking in time. Seeing that she was struggling, Kh'laz took the bladeless blunted end and swept her feet out from under her.

She gasped as her spine collided with floor, once again, the spear flying from her hand. Kh'laz pointed the blade at her heart.

Amy knew he was clearly letting her know, if this were real, she was already dead.

She pushed herself onto her elbows and huffed at the escaped hair across her forehead. "Are we done?"

"No."

Gasping, she collapsed to the ground and cried that she was about to die of hunger and fatigue. When he didn't answer, she felt it was safe enough to hoist herself back on her feet. Maybe he would take pity on her. She was surprisingly steady on her feet, all things considered.

His silence made her nervous and trying to look nonchalant, she dusted off imaginary dirt from her shorts. Something about his posture and stillness alarmed her. Though she'd have thought his _otherworldness_ would be off-putting, she was actually feeling an inexplicable attraction to the alien.

After the tension built to an uncomfortable level, Kh'laz spoke gutturally, "Now, you must escape my hold on you. Learn how to escape even from those stronger than you. With your strength level, escape should always be your first line of defense, if that option is available to you." Normally, Kh'laz would never recommend running to those he trained. Yet, the thought of her facing a warrior Yautja when he was not around sent his stomach plummeting. It was not a sensation he liked.

One stride and he was in her personal bubble.

He looped his arm around her waist, holding her even when she beat her fists against his rock-hard chest. His grip was tight and constricting on her ribs.

What was she supposed to do? This was unexpected. He was too strong! "Hey, this isn't really fair. You didn't tell me what I could do before you snuck this on me. Just let me go and we can try again later once you explain this better," she said, keeping up her fruitless efforts to get away.

Attempting to find purchase on him to maneuver over his shoulder, Amy wrapped her legs around his waist and grabbed his shoulders. Before she could muster the energy to pull herself up like she had imagined, the heat of his torso sent shivers radiating through her, stunning her. She was too shocked to move, to breathe. Thought evaporated like a spring dream.

She found her fists loosening, her palms sliding down and resting docilely on his chest. When they trained, he removed his upper-body armor. It left little to the imagination. Even with her legs around his waist, her face had the perfect view of his chest.

When she lightly grazed her hand along the muscles of his chest in fascination, he reacted quickly. She found her back pressed against the wall with his body.

Her breath left her in a whoosh, and she stared up at him as he silently watched her. One large hand was clawing the wall by her head while the other slid down to grip her hip. Her lips parted at his possessive grip.

Involuntarily, in a subconscious attempt to have him closer to that part of her which was now aching relentlessly, she squeezed her legs tighter. Kh'laz jerked and seemed spurred onward to sweep the hand on her hip up her side. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his hand cupped her weight. When he brazenly pinched her nipple, she nearly came out of her skin, jerking with a cry that turned into a moan.

To her dismay in that singular moment, the cry that escaped her lips had Kh'laz frozen on the spot, his scalding hand still touching her. Not even a second later, he jerked them back and dropped her to the ground, where her legs promptly collapsed under her.

Amy sat on the floor feeling like a hot mess of jelly as she watched Kh'laz disappear from the room. Never before had she suffered so intensely from primal sensation.

Had she done something wrong? Brow furrowed, she had a hard time believing that were the case. He seemed to like touching her, having reached for her of his own volition on other occasions. No, that couldn't be it. Amy replayed the scene over and over in her mind trying to understand, while struggling to tamp down her bodily reactions at the memory. Her body felt uncomfortably flushed. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

Finally, she perceived something she had missed while her brain was sending all the blood in her body south. Kh'laz had been shaking as he held her. His body thrummed with barely suppressed energy.

Had he been close to losing all control? Was he holding himself back? Did he fear hurting her? Amy stood on shaky legs as she tried to figure out the big alien. Sighing, she chose to let it go. There was no point running her mind ragged trying to analyze an alien when she couldn't even figure out the males of her own species.

Tiredly, Amy drudged along to the control panel. Kh'laz wasn't there, which was unusual, but she noticed the food laid out for her right away. Squashing down the disappointment, she sat down and ate all of it quickly. She left the dishes for him and went to the bedroom.

Her backside was sore from the multiple falls. Earlier, Kh'laz had shown her how to work the cleansing area. She didn't want to call it a 'shower' because it was not any type of shower she had ever seen before. There was no singular area of a wall or plumbing pipe that released a steady stream of water. Instead, there was a large area that closed completely, and the air filled with fog.

The fog was so thick and heavy with an air torrent that was so strong, Amy had to hold tightly onto the wall to keep from being rocked back and forth, and risk slipping. Her hair was flung everywhere and slapped her face several times.

She would eventually get the hang of it. Either way, it was hot, relaxing, and cleansing. Even if it did feel like some strange nudist amusement ride.

When she felt clean enough, Amy slid her hand along the wet stone until her hand hit the button that turned the machine on and off. Immediately, the wind stopped. The fog slowly dissipated as the air became lighter and easier to breathe.

There were no towels, but the odd shower didn't leave her drenched. She glanced down at the dirty clothes pile. Despite all the technology surrounding her, there was no fast and easy machine to wash her clothes. Kh'laz had shown her a deep basin in the med room that would have to do when she hand washed her own clothes. He had reassured her that once on his planet, she wouldn't have to worry about such labors.

Naked and slightly self-conscious, Amy snuck into the bedroom. Sprinting toward the duffel bags in the corner that held all her clothes, Amy quickly grabbed a pair of underwear and a large t-shirt. It was green and read "John Deere" in cursive over the mounds on her chest.

The nipple that Kh'laz had spent attention on was standing at attention smack dab in the center of the "O" of "John". Amy groaned in annoyance when she noticed and tried to rub some warmth into it in the hopes it would go back down.

Nope. Apparently, her body was ready to snap her back to the prior tension from earlier. Kh'laz was nowhere to be seen. She briefly hoped he wasn't upset or avoiding her. There was only one thing to do if she couldn't jump his bones.

Get in bed and go to sleep. She climbed in and pulled a fur over her shoulder knowing that shortly after she slipped into sleep, the blankets would be kicked off. The air truly was remarkably warm at all times. Despite the last vestiges of lingering desire crawling over her skin, Amy slipped quite easily into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

Kh'laz had spent the rest of his time within the bowels of the ship checking all the mechanics. He needed to occupy his mind thoroughly to escape the tempting female. He had nearly lost all control and taken her right there on the training room wall.

Yautja mating was violently ferocious. He didn't want to risk hurting her, which is why he wanted her trained. Amy needed to survive _him._ He had no idea how he would react to her.

Never having been with a human, he had no idea what to expect. He had been with other sentient beings on other planets, but none as small and frail as his human. Remembering the raw sounds that had come unbidden from her throat, Kh'laz clenched his fist and growled low in his chest.

Finally, when there was nothing else to check and recheck, Kh'laz made his way to their room. Sleep did not come easy that night, the tension within him wound even tighter laying next to her.

Kh'laz kept his mask on that night.


End file.
